


Kuroko no Bookshop

by miyaji_08



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: F/M, M/M, but they're way minor so I'm not tagging those either :), discontinued, more than those relationships, ok so there's like one character from hq, that's not enough to tag it i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-12
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-04-26 00:56:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4983661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miyaji_08/pseuds/miyaji_08
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meet Aomine, an ex-cop with no money and a chip on his shoulder. After getting caught in a rainstorm one night he finds himself in a shop where candles float, coworkers vanish, and nothing is what it seems.</p><p>SERIES SUMMARY POSTED AT END OF LAST CHAPTER since i have to motivation to continue it but hate when people drop something and don't say how it ends</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Just What He Needed

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I'm back...with another multi-chapter story. I wanted to wait to finish it before posting, but comments and support really fuel my motivation, so I'm gonna post it before it's done! This will mainly focus on Aomine/Kise and lots and lots of brotps. Also, one volleyball brat~ I decided halfway through to switch from 3rd to 1st person, so if there's any weird thinking about oneself in the third person here, that's why.
> 
> Please R&R!!!!!! I can't stress this enough. Even if it's not my fic, comments mean THE WORLD to an author so if you really like a work, leave a review about it! It can really brighten someone's day.

There was nothing like getting caught in a downpour. Navy eyes slid shut as I blinked away the raindrops from my eyelashes, wiping a hand over my wet forehead. My thin cotton hoodie was soaked through and my jeans were getting so heavy with water they practically weighed more than I did. I was pretty sure there were fish in my shoes.

    A small alcove over Kiseki Books offered me a small amount of time out of the rain, and I strode aggressively over to it. I shivered, noting the 'closed' sign pinned diligently to the window, deciding to lean against the wall next to the door and pick bitterly at the bleeding hangnails that littered the tips of my fingers. Basking in my tired, depressed surroundings did wonders for my attitude.

It was cold; not the slow way weather is cold, but the way you’re cold when you walk into a hot room after being outside and the first layer of your skin is burning to adjust but the rest of you is uncomfortably freezing.

     My shoulder hurt. Skipping out on PT seemed like a good idea at the time--who would want to spend half a day in an uncomfortably humid room surrounded by handicapped people and sweat when they could be playing street court basketball? But skipping plus physical exercise seemed to aggravate my injury.

    With nothing else to do but wait for the rain to stop, I pulled out my iPhone and began praying for an unlocked wifi. Seeing none I checked his messages.

     Four texts from Momoi asking me where the hell I was, two from my physical therapist scolding me for skipping, and one from my roommate Imayoshi saying that Sakurai was over and not to bother them. I kept scrolling until I saw the name Oikawa Tooru. It had over ten message alerts next to the name but I hadn't answered any of them, shunting it down the list of names to the very bottom.

     No way in hell was I ready to deal with that. Sighing, I began to get up in search of a faster route home when the shop door swung open.

    "Hi!" A blonde man--an employee judging by his little bookstore pin--leaned out the door with a tired smile. He stepped out next to me and put a hand over his eyes, looking out at the horizon. "Doesn't look like it's gonna clear up soon, huh?" He put a hand on his hip and pouted.

     "Nope," I said. The employee looked vaguely familiar, like a past teammate or something.

   "Well, you look kinda wet. Wanna wait in the store 'till we're done closing up? The rain might stop later, so..."

    "Yeah, thanks, that'd be awesome--" I paused and glanced at the guy's worker pin, "--Kise."

     "Totally! I've gotten stuck out in the rain too, it really sucks. C'mon, I think there might be some old volunteer shirts in the back." Kise held the door open for me with a bright smile. "There's only two other guys here but they should be cool with you waiting. Follow me, please!"

     I did so, glancing around as we strolled inside. Kiseki Books was a well-known store: it'd been rivaling Powell's in size since creation. It was in a good spot, too: surrounded by a Pizza Hut, a Pâtisserie, Jolly Roger Coffee, and Mama Shin's Pho in a big but pretty square.

    The store itself had a vitality to it that made the experience all the more surreal. It was as if all of the employees had inserted a little bit of themselves into the bookshelves crevices of the store. Each room appeared to meld seamlessly into another, with rickety hidden stairways that wound up through different floors of colourful books, and little doors that no grown up could possibly fit into with gold handles and multiple keyholes. I noted an odd variety of house plants littered in strange places--a potted fern on a stack of books, an orchid hanging from the ceiling, a Venus flytrap balancing precariously on a bookshelf--and different intoxicating smells accompanied each room.

    Kise walked me through the science fiction room first, which was attached to the register area and was arguably the largest room. With dark blue wallpaper and glow-in-the-dark stars taped to the ceiling, it made me feel like I was in a very dark and new place. It smelled like chlorine, copper, and lemons (then again, there was a bowl of lemon drops on the counter). Cat fur was embedded into an old purple velvet chair that, oddly enough, housed a large jade statue of a frog.

     Then I was led up a hidden staircase to the second floor, which opened up into the fantasy section and smelled like caramel and apple cider and smoke. Dark red walls with gold details sprung up in a pentagram shape with bookshelves lining each side, and someone had stapled a thick jewel toned tapestry to the ceiling and pulled it to each corner, giving the room an effect of a tent. I barely managed to avoid running over some kind of tropical plant when Kise dragged me through a small door tagged 'Employees Only', which I had to duck to get into.

      "It's sort of a world of its own," Kise revealed as we walked down a narrow corridor. There were hundreds of little neon birthday candles lighting up the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling illuminating the deceivingly short hallway, though I couldn’t make out the ceiling itself. Kise pointed up at the candles, "Fun fact number one: we've never lit those before. Dunno where they came from." I shivered; the dancing candle flames were eerie in the way that oak paneling is when you stare at it long enough to make out faces in the wood.

    "And you just let that go?!" I exclaimed, staring up at the candles wearily. _Maybe Kise's lying,_ I thought. But why lie? There was no motive.

    "No one has a ladder high enough to get them down." Kise shrugged as we arrived at a large circular door. It had name tags pasted to the front, each a different color, except for someone named 'Nijimura' whose card had ironically been painted like a rainbow. Kise pushed it open with little force and entered a homely room.

     It had dark green wallpaper and dark brown trimming. There were various unsorted books piled up on top of each other in relatively collected heaps and an old round table was in the middle. Another employee with black hair and pale skin sat on a cardboard box for a chair, picking off crumbs from the little collection of half-eaten scones and muffins that littered the table.

    "Hey Takaocchi!" Kise smiled happily, gesturing for me to take a seat before moving off to rummage through a pile of boxes.

     "Yo," Takao held up a hand in greeting and his sharp inkwell eyes pierced me. "Hey. Got caught in the rain?" I nodded. "Figured. What're you doing out late on a Saturday night? The bar's on the other side of town."

      I shuffled his feet and sat down on a small wood crate, "that's not really your business."

    Takao raised an eyebrow but before he could pester Kise cut in: "Yeah, Takaocchi! Don't pry!"

      "That's unfair, Ki-chan, don't double team me." Takao kept his eyes trained on me as he slumped bonelessly on the table. "So? You got a name?"

       "Aomine. Aomine Daiki," I nodded to him, jumping as a pasty white t shirt landed in my lap. EMPLOYEE was printed in bright orange letters across the back.

     "Sorry," Kise apologized, "It's the only thing we have that would fit you." He took a seat next to Takao and checked one of the drinks in the carrier. "Himurocchi didn't drink his? Huh. Well, Aominecchi," Takao raised his eyebrows, "you can have it if you want, but prepare yourself. Himurocchi takes it black." Takao passed me the cup without waiting for a confirmation, and I took a long gulp. The coffee scalded my throat in a good way, heat flooding into my veins. This, everything here--the workers, the environment, the care and concern--I felt more alive here than I ever had in the white walls of the PT room.

     "No," I shook his head, staring down at the cup. "No, this was exactly what I needed."

     "It always is, somehow." Takao grinned. "Well---"

     "Hey, brats!" A golden-haired man strode in and I was immediately struck by how hot he was. The nametag read 'Miyaji' and was pinned to a well-fit, light brown button-down shirt. Miyaji had creamy skin a few shades darker than Takao's, long gold eyelashes, and sharp amber eyes that seemed to glow like candlelight. "Get the hell off your asses and get to work!!" He whipped to the side. "Kise! Go upstairs, there's a leak that'll stain the carpet in the Mythology room. Takao, we just got another shipment of Magic Treehouse books."

     "That's the fourth time they've overshipped!!" Takao whined, but when Miyaji started glaring he removed himself from the table and skittered after Kise.

    "What about you?" Miyaji raised an eyebrow at me, eyeing the shirt in his lap.

     "...what about me?"

     "Come on. You're gonna help me bring some boxes in from the trucks out back." Miyaji turned towards a mirror on the wall opposite the door. He knocked a couple times and it swung open, revealing a long and dark hallway. "Well?" He asked impatiently, turning back with one foot in the door.

      "I can't. I have a shoulder injury." I said, wondering why I didn't just tell the man I didn't work there.

      "Help's help. Just do what you're able to and it will be good enough." Miyaji seemed very unimpressed with my excuse, which was nice since my PT was always coddling me to death.

       "Okay." I stood up and gulped one last swig of coffee down before following the older man down the hallway. It wasn't lit with birthday candles, but somehow even in the dark I felt like I could see everything. I had no trouble discerning some odd but stylish geometric paintings on the walls, or the faint outline of Miyaji's freshly pressed shirt.

      "I don't remember you." I heard him mutter. "How'd you get here?"

     "Uh," I faintly wondered if Kise would get in trouble for letting in a complete stranger, "I was job hunting and Kise found me."

     Technically it wasn't a lie. I was job hunting; I just wasn't done yet.

     "And? You do anything before that?" They were getting closer and closer to a long white door with terribly peeled paint and a clear glass knob.

      "Law enforcement," I said. "Started off in the traffic division."

     "Fun." Miyaji's sarcasm went right over my head. “I can see that ended well.”

      "Yeah, not really. You try telling an eighty year old woman that there's actually such a thing as driving too slowly."

     Miyaji barked out a laugh just as we approached the door. He opened it and a burst of bright white light hit me in the face like a sledgehammer, sending me reeling back into the darkness.

      "Don't be a baby," Miyaji scolded, grabbing me tightly by the back of my hoodie and dragged me out into the light. The rain had cleared up into a pleasant misty state, but judging from the bruised clouds the torrent would return post haste.

    "Here' c'mon." Miyaji turned and stepped out onto the glittering pavement, heading toward a rusty blue truck. It was a little bit of a letdown; after the new and interesting rooms in the bookstore, I was expecting something with a little more...pizazz. If the truck ever had any pizazz, it abandoned it all in the seventies.

     "Don't mock," Miyaji said, patting it fondly, "or I'll run you over."

     Well then.

     I followed Miyaji to the truck bed and helped him remove the orange canvas tarp, revealing several IKEA boxes.

     "Usually we find an empty bookshelf here or there, or one just appears, but lately nothing's popped up." Miyaji explained as he pulled out a Cart. We began hoisting the boxes out of the bed, "So we're resorting to desperate measures."

     "IKEA counts as a desperate measure?" I snorted. My shoulder moaned in agony under the weight of a particularly heavy box.

     "Have you been in that store?" Miyaji fixed me with a steely glare. "It's a fucking nightmare."

      The conversation faded pretty quickly after that. I found that lifting the boxes, which were thin but wide, took up most of my attention. I got the vague feeling that Miyaji was watching me, maybe didn't think I was actually a worker, but if the blonde had a problem with it he didn't speak up.

     Covering the bed with the tarp again proved difficult, and finally, after a third and miserable attempt, Miyaji kicked the truck's tire. It made a faint wheezing noise of betrayal before deflating, to which Miyaji rolled his eyes.

     "Holy shit, how hard did you kick it?" I exclaimed, trying to work out the physics behind kicking a tire hard enough to pop it. I couldn't see anything wrong with it.

    "Nah, it's not popped," Miyaji snorted, "she's being a drama queen. C'mon. I can put the tarp up again later."

     "...." I didn't trust that truck for a New York minute, almost enough to be too nervous to take my eyes off it, but when Miyaji threatened to lock me out I retreated. The truck's malefic headlights glared at my back and I quickened my pace. It wasn’t scary like the way an axe man is scary, it was scary like how children’s songs are normal until you listen to the words and slow down the tempo and really _listen_ to it, and then they’re terrifying. It was creepy only when you took the time and effort to really appreciate how creepy it was.

     By the time Miyaji and I finished stacking the boxes in the corner of the break room, Takao had retired from his epic shelving battle. Bruises marred his hands and forehead ("Kiseki just doesn't like Magic Treehouse--spits them off the bookshelf the second I turn my back. I don't blame it, they're shitty books") and he lay sprawled over the ground with half a bagel stuffed in his mouth.

      We waited five minutes at the table with Takao splayed nearby before Kise returned, slightly wet but cheerful nonetheless, with a bucket full of muddy water in his arms. He ditched the bucket in the corner by some dirty rags and settled next to me, his long gold eyelashes fluttering.  
    Miyaji was kind of like an untouched hotness, like raw amber or honey, and he was abrasive and intense where Kise was pretty and kind in a model-y sort of way, like a marble statue. I preferred Kise, personally, and found my cheeks reddening at the thought. Distracting myself by looking at the books on the wall ('Marital Problems? This Book Is for You!' and, ‘Why My Girlfriend Doesn't Pay Attention To Me' were the first I spotted) didn't prove to help at all.

      "So, what's your schedule? This is the first time I've seen you here." Miyaji asked, propping his feet up on Takao's lap and crossing his arms.  
       "Uh," I said smartly, glancing at Kise for help. "I don't actually work here."

      Miyaji looked like his brain was broken. "You don't actually---" He scanned the walls for a minute before frowning thoughtfully. "Hm."

     Kise and Takao shared a look that made me feel like I was missing something very important and very obvious.

     "I think it's a good fit." Takao put in hesitantly, eyes flickering over me. He began to play with the shoelaces on Miyaji's brown lace-ups. "Yeah, it's a good fit."

     "I think so too," Kise nodded, blushing a little. It was a nice look on him.

     "Ugh. Fine. Brat!" Miyaji addressed me and I glanced up. "Be here on Monday at eight thirty sharp. If you're late I'll hit you!"

     "But I don't w--"

     "I'm not stupid, I heard you the first time!" Miyaji snapped, pulling on a hooded cream anorak jacket and tugging his nametag off irritably. He set it on the counter and grabbed a scone. "You said you were job hunting? Well, not any more."

      "Thanks?" I felt a little insulted, but not enough to turn down the offer. Honestly, I doubted bookstore employees were rolling in cash but it would definitely be better than nothing.

     "Tch. Just don't be late." Miyaji rolled his eyes and turned to the other workers. "You guys need a ride?"

     "Sure!" Chirped Kise.

     "Nah," Takao waved his hand, "thanks though. If I leave the rickshaw here I can't bike Midorima on Monday."

     "See you later then." Miyaji opened the mirror again, pausing to glare back at me. "And you," he shook a long finger, "don't be late."  
     "I heard you the first time!" I growled.

      "Bye Takaocchi, Aominecchi." Was it my imagination, or did Kise blush a little as we caught eyes? I hoped it wasn’t. Kise was hot as fuck.

     The mirror clanged shut and suddenly the air became very tense. Takao's orange-gold eyes glinted as he stared me down.

     "Huh. Yeah, this is just what we needed! Awesome. See ya! Just take the back way out!" He hopped up out of his chair and grabbed his drink and a chocolate-smothered biscotti before turning tail through the circular door.

    "Bye," I said, wondering what kind of employees hired a complete stranger on the spot and then left said stranger alone to close up shop.

      I hoped I knew what I was getting into...


	2. In Over His Head

  I did not.

      I had no fucking idea what I was doing and it was painfully obvious.

    Nijimura, Izuki, Kuroko, and Kise were the ones working that morning. From what I could tell, Izuki, who I’d only caught a glimpse of, was literally Takao pretending to be another person; Kuroko was some kind of fucking ghost, and Nijimura was the owner of the shop who wasn't below resorting to physical violence.

     Not a great mix to start up the day with.

    The only bright side was that Kuroko had enough time during his disappearing acts to vaporize into the Jolly Roger for drinks, somehow knowing that I took my coffee black, and arrive before the first customer. Plus, Kise had made it his duty to shadow me and help me out when needed--which was pretty much every other five minutes. Now I was roaming the forth floor--the television-shows-and-movies-turned-into-books section--and trying to figure out how to get back to the register. Despite there being three other people in the room they were all customers, and I wanted to retain at least some of my dignity.

     It wasn't the actual work that caught me up. After all, it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out which books went where, or how to help customers choose between two to three novels.

     No, the problem was that I got lost every ten seconds.

     It wasn't my fault. Really, it wasn't, even Nijimura hadn't acted surprised. The store itself was massive, and the fact that there were little hidden staircases and doors everywhere didn't help. For a first-timer to the shop, I felt a little bit accomplished that this was my first time getting lost on multiple levels.

     I decided to take a random staircase down a dark unlit path, nearly taking out a vibrantly orange and blue houseplant on the way down, and ended up in a lavender room. It smelled like cotton balls, baby powder, and soap, and I found myself wrinkling my nose and pulling my shirt above my mouth to breathe. I glanced curiously over at one of the carefully organized bookshelves.

     Ah. Baby books. No wonder.

     I looked around and noted a window off to the side, shunted between two gold-trimmed shelves and hidden behind a large-leaved tree (or maybe it was a tall bush?). Peeking from around the dark green leaves, I made out figures bustling around the cobblestone square. I was directly facing the Pizza Hut and Mama Shin's, and could make out the array of fir trees that made up the massive forest surrounding the little square.

     Bored and figuring it would be a while before anyone found me, I managed to balance myself by sitting on the rim of the large ceramic pot housing the tree, and then spent the next twenty minutes people watching.

     A white-haired teen in a black-and-red smock and baseball cap ducked out of the Pizza Hut, holding up a stack of pizza boxes over his head to block the torrential downpour, and darted out to the alcove of Kiseki. Curiously enough a brunette also peeked out from behind the thick glass doors of Harrod's Chocolate, looking both ways before sprinting across the street and joining Pizza Hut Guy.

     A few minutes passed. People skirted out to their cars, guys holding out umbrellas for their girlfriends, scouting policemen helping those who slipped or, god forbid, got locked out of their cars. Finally, after ten minutes of leisure watch, my eyes were directed to the familiar blonde head of one Kise Ryouta going out and greeting the pair under the alcove. Pizza Hut Guy ruffled Kise's hair with a mocking look on his face while Chocolate boy stood, hovering blankly, a crinkled white bag tight in his hands. Kise revealed two brown bags, and my eyes widened as the three exchanged items.

     Huh. Well then. That wasn't suspicious at all.

     I took a deep breath and tore away from the window, only to find not-Takao less than two feet away shelving a handful of pop-up baby books.

     "Holy shit! Don't scare me like that!" I swore, jumping away from the plant and nearly dislodging the pot. Not-Takao's ash eyes glinted in amusement but much to my curiosity, he remained silent. Funny, I remembered Takao being a lot more talkative than this. “Is something wrong with you?”

“That’s a little rude seeing as I just met you, but no.” Not-Takao sent me a funny look. “Wait. Have I met you before or something? Is that it?”

“Yeah? How do you not remember me? You were there on Saturday when Kise let me in.”

Understanding dawned on not-Takao’s face. “Oh. _Oh._ Oh, no.” He stuck out a hand and I hesitated before taking it. “I’m Izuki; Takao’s my brother from another mother. We look a lot alike so I don’t blame you for getting confused.”

“Huh.” Well, that made more sense than Takao having multiple identity disorder, so. “Cool. Nice to meet you. Do you have a tick or is it just the ones I met on Saturday?”

A graceful smile worked over Izuki’s serene face. “Well, I guess they haven’t told you their back stories. The employees here are more than just oddballs, you know. For example I’m not the average worker myself. I actually worked at a high-end tea store near here for a few years until it shut down, and was a part-time ballet dancer on the side. Nijimura-san was a regular at the shop and offered me a job. We’re not a bunch of guys too lazy to get real jobs.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean for it to sound that way,” I quickly apologized. Somewhere in the distance a customer smashed into a bookcase, probably terrified by Kuroko’s vanishing-appearing act. “So you and Takao are like half-brothers or something? Isn’t it weird to work in the same place?”

Izuki shrugged and finished stacking the books. “Not really. We didn’t actually know we were related when he started working here; we were talking about our pasts when we realized we had a little too much in common parent-wise. Besides, it’s nice to know that there’s someone nearby that you can always count on.” Nostalgia filled his light grey eyes and I felt my heart ache. I remembered distinctly what that felt like, to rely on someone and have them depend on you. It was a feeling I missed intimately. 

“Cool...” I faltered for a minute as the conversation paused. “…I’m kind of lost, actually. Do you know how to get back down to the register?”   
“If you’re feeling ambitious, you can take my personal route home,” he pointed up at the ceiling. There was a door cleverly disguised as a painted-on cloud that looked like it swung open. “It’s a slide that takes you near the break room. But I have a feeling you’re looking for a more conventional way, in which that staircase over there would do you justice.”

“Oh! What the hell?!” I hadn’t even noticed the staircase squished tightly between two giant bookshelves. Izuki grinned a little.

“Yeah, your first few days will be like that. Don’t worry about it, if you go missing for too long someone will go looking for you. Probably.”

“So…I’ve gotta ask,” I pointed down at the ravenette’s feet, “what’s with the shoes?”

“Huh?” Izuki looked down and laughed. He was wearing Padfoot—which basically was the bottom of a shoe molded to the bottom of your foot so perfectly it didn’t need straps to keep it on. “Oh, yeah, I never really liked close-toed shoes.”

…well, that was pretty normal. Or it would’ve been, if Izuki hadn’t said that he used to be a ballet dancer. “Thanks for the directions. See you later,” I waved as I passed by and squeezed through the bookshelves into the stairway. Immediately I was accosted by the smell of pumpkin bread and lavender, an odd but altogether soothing combination. I turned to ask Izuki what it was but it was almost impossible, somehow, to see back into the room. A trick of the light probably. I turned back to go down the staircase, which took odd and narrow turns, and nearly ran right into Kuroko.

Several thick and leatherbound books at the top of his stack teetered dangerously and I smothered my hands in old-book-dust keeping them from falling. Kuroko didn’t say anything, just watched me through observant blue eyes, his expression blank and unyielding.

“Uh, sorry,” I apologized, scratching the back of my head and accidentally streaking it with dust. Kuroko smiled at that and shook his head.  
“This stairway is narrow. Don’t worry about it,” he said.

“So…” I tried to think of something to fill what would soon be an awkward silence, “where are you taking those?”

“I’ll show you.” Kuroko said, gesturing for me to follow back up the steps.

“But isn’t that the—“ I stopped talking, my mouth clicking shut. What had once been an open walkway crammed between two shelves was now a bright red door. It didn’t have a handle, but there was a button next to it that looked suspiciously like a doorbell. Kuroko pressed it and the door swung open.

Pumpkin and lavender was quickly replaced by a thick humidity of dust and peppermint and fresh-cut grass: another very strange but unique and lovable fragrance. The room was in the shape of a pentagon and the walls weren’t painted—instead, there was a pink-and-green wallpaper. It peeled in certain parts, but looked more artistic than tacky. A small metal bench painted yellow sat in the middle with hefty stacks of books perched atop it; the shelves were carved into different wooden statues. Copies of True Grit and All the Pretty Horses sat in the belly of a bear; Hondo, Dead Man’s Walk, and Last of the Mohicans were balanced on the brim of a giant cowboy hat. It didn’t make for very effective storage use, but it was cool looking and there weren’t enough books in the place for it to be a problem yet.

“Okay, how the hell do you guys pull this off?” I admired the wooden bear statue, ghosting my fingers over the smooth butternut wood. “I mean—this is amazing, but it’s too much. Like…this is a bookstore. Why do I feel like every door here takes me to Narnia? Who even made this place?”

“Aomine-kun, my advice to you is this,” Kuroko put his hand on my shoulder and gave me a serious gaze, “don’t try to take it all in at once. There are some things that have answers and there are some that don’t. Who’s to say which is which?”

“Okay?” I said, even though I had absolutely no idea what that was supposed to mean. I looked around the room in awe. “How long have you worked here?”

“A year,” Kuroko answered shortly. My conversational skills stuttered.

“Did you, like…do anything before that?”

“I worked at a preschool,” Kuroko said as he placed the books on the bench. “It closed down a few years ago when the economy sank, but I still babysit several of the children.” He picked up a book and pointed to a high-up shelf. “Put this away for me, please.”

“Sure,” I took it and put it at the top of the cowboy hat.

“And you?”

“What?”

Kuroko’s eyes flashed. “Did you also have a job before...this?”

“Oh…” And just like that my mood darkened. As if on cue my phone vibrated: Oikawa, probably. I grimaced. “I was a cop. I’m on leave because I got…injured on call.”

“I’m sorry,” Kuroko apologized, and my automatic response was “It’s okay."

“It’s not,” he said. “But I appreciate you saying so.”

That peaked my interest, and for the first time that day I tried to take in who exactly Kuroko was. Physically the guy was unnoticeable: short statured with messy light blue hair, pale skin, and not at all muscular. He wore a thin dark red Henley and faded grey jeans. His generic white sneakers were old and worn out despite his lack of visible athletic ability.

“So what did Kise do before this?” I asked casually, trying to figure out what I knew the blonde from. The face—that gorgeous, flawless porcelain face—was just so _familiar_. It was going to kill me if I didn’t figure it out. 

“He was a model. He was very popular as a high school student.”

“Ah! That’s where I know him from! I had all these magaz—aaaaand never mind. That sounded less creepy in my head,” I shot Kuroko an embarrassed grin and was pleasantly surprised when the employee smiled. Kuroko’s smile was tiny, barely noticeable if not for the faint curling at the edges of his mouth. It was nice. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Kuroko chuckled, “you remind me of someone.”

“Who?”

“My b—my friend.” If I were drinking something I’d do a spit take. _Did he almost say boyfriend?_ Why would he hide that? “He is also easily embarrassed. And he has magazines of Kise-kun as well, as do I. Kise-kun is a model, Aomine-kun, it is his job to be attractive.”

“That…was a little too much information.”

“It was,” Kuroko agreed, blushing slightly. “You’re easy to talk to.”

“That’s part of _my_ job,” I teased. “What about Miyaji? Was he a model?”

At that, Kuroko laughed. Just like his smile it was small and came out like more of an enjoyable huff, but it was a good laugh all the same. We began the trek back down the stairway to the register. “No, though he does get that question a lot. Miyaji-kun…is something else. I’m not actually sure what he did before this.”

“Huh.” Well, that would certainly be worth looking into. “Okay, well…thanks for showing me that room. It’s cool.”

“It is.” Kuroko nodded. “We found it quite recently; I think it was Midorima-kun who discovered it. You’re all day, correct? You’ll meet him at two when he arrives.”

“So who is he?”

“A rather new worker like yourself. He recently graduated medical school, though I’m not certain what his job required of him. That,” Kuroko pointed through a doorway into the Science Fiction Room at the jade frog statue, “is his. He is a fanatic for fortune telling and often discards his old lucky items within the shop.”

“Sounds like an interesting guy,” I commented. Being around Kuroko was nice, like sitting down after a really tiring day and being able to enjoy just sitting down and relaxing. One of the only times I really appreciated the simple things was after a long and taxing day, or not being able to do something for a long time and then doing it. Like stretching my legs after a long car ride. That was what being around Kuroko felt like.

“He is,” the small man agreed, if not a bit sourly. Approaching the thick purple curtain and pushing it back revealed the entrance to the register area, which was located at the front of the store. Kuroko checked the ancient grandfather clock that basked in solitude by the front door. “Kise-kun should be down for lunch soon, if you’d like to eat with him.”

“Okay, thanks.” 

“Any time, Aomine-kun. Please remember what I said.”

“Don’t take it in all at once,” I repeated. “Right. I’ll remember.”

Kuroko nodded once and then vanished back into the store. Just like that, I was alone again.


	3. The Light of Day

“So, I’m curious.” Takao said. We manned the registers that murky Saturday evening, waiting for the last of the customers to dwindle out with their various purchases. To our knowledge no one was left in the store, but then again…better safe than sorry. It’s not like we could check every room before we closed up, since Kise rainchecked for a photo shoot and Miyaji left for his dinner date thirty minutes prior. “This was your first week. What’ve you noticed, Mr. Detective-san?”

_Well if that isn’t a loaded question_. Leftover coffee pooled a nice smell from where the cups sat at the end of the table, and I brushed my fingers over the warmed containers as I chewed over my answer. 

“Okay…so that tall guy with the brown hair—Kiyoshi?—is checking out Izuki, but I’m pretty sure he’s dating someone already. Miyaji is with that Hayama person, whoever that is, since he left for a date a while ago. Kuroko likes that redheaded guy Kagami who always drops by. But Kagami and Himuro are friends or something so Kuroko’s irked, even though from what Kise says I’m pretty sure Himuro has something going on with someone in the patisserie.” I decided to move on from co-worker relationships and mulled over the thought of oddities in the store itself. “The number of plants in this place is accumulating somehow. I’m pretty sure the stairways move. Oh! And apparently it literally has a personality, not that that’s possible, seeing as everyone keeps referring to it as a living thing.” _And Kise is literally an angel._ I thought back to all the times he helped me over the week, following me around and making sure I didn’t get lost.

Takao looked impressed. “Wow, you’re pretty observant. Then again you were a cop, so I’d expect nothing less.” He grinned, petting the smooth wood of the desk. “Well, you seem to be on the right track so I won’t make you go on. That stairway you got lost on is the Portal—just a nickname, not anything literal…I think. Any questions for me?”

“Yeah, actually.” I had been thinking about it for a while. I knew Midorima was a graduated medical student. Kuroko was a teacher, Izuki was a dancer-slash-tea-shop-employee, and Kise was a model. The crazy redhead Akashi, who I had yet to get formally acquainted with, used to own his father’s company, Himuro was a bartender, and Kiyoshi has his qualifications as a physical therapist. “What did you used to do before this?”

Takao laughed. “Everything,” he grinned nostalgically. “I miss it a little, actually.”

“Everything?”

“Well, I mean, yeah. Let’s see…I was a sculptor for three years, good enough to get by. Then for a few years I was a taxi driver, and I then a drove an ambulance for a while. That’s actually how I met Shin-chan.” His grin faded into a content smile. “I was shit outta luck when I came here. Like, seriously broke. No one was here; I ended up getting lost and found my way to the break room. I waited for someone to show up and when Miyaji-senpai appeared and heard what happened he hired me, no questions asked.”

“Wow,” I said, unsure of what else to say.

“I know,” Takao laughed, “you’re thinking, ‘what sitcom did _they_ walk out of’, right?”

“Well…” Yeah. That was exactly what I was thinking, but I didn’t want him to know that he could read me so well. I took a sip of the lukewarm coffee, chewing my lip afterward and thinking of a decent response. Unfortunately, Takao beat me to it.

“So, Mr. Detective-san, how did _you_ get here? Actual story time, don’t give me that vague bullshit you shoved in everyone else’s ears.”

“Wow. Playing hardball now, huh?” I had no intention of telling him what went down three—four?—weeks ago, not willingly at least, but his expression said that he wasn’t going to let it go.

“Yeah, pretty much. I’m curious.” His expression darkened considerably as he leaned in, popping my personal bubble, “you didn’t kill anyone, did you?”

I laughed. “Hell no, I just—“ I cut myself off, the mood becoming somber. Rain pounded against the thick glass doors in torrents. When I spoke my voice was lower, melancholy taking over. “I was undercover. We’d gotten reports that a suspected murderer was targeting a worker in a dollar shop so I went in as a regular customer and just…hung around. The girl he’d killed before that was twelve.

“I started having trouble sleeping at night. I never even saw the body, but her face just…” I shivered. “I couldn’t forget it. My roommate Oikawa, this kid who graduated a year ago, he was getting pissed because I was never around anymore. And one day he followed me to the shop…and the suspect was there.”

“Oh my god,” Takao whispered, totally caught up in the recollection. I watched his tense, long fingers squeeze the rim of his cup in anticipation. His eyes gleamed fearfully.

“There wasn’t anyone else in the shop that day…I never made the connection—the girl looked like Oikawa, same hair and skin color, eyes were a little different. They both looked like the suspect; apparently the guy had some shit with his family. When the employee went out to the back to check stock the guy tried attacking Oikawa. With a gun. I stepped in.”

My voice hung in the back of my throat, unwilling to continue even after a minute passed. After a few more minutes of tense silence I tugged the edge of my green t-shirt down, revealing the shoulder wrappings. Takao’s eyes widened and his hand went up to trace the bandages. Touching light enough not to cause pain, his fingers danced around the wound.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, captivated. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah.” 

His hand retreated and the anxious fluttering in my chest that made an appearance every time someone saw it disappeared. “Oikawa must be one hell of a guy, then.”

“Not really,” I shrugged sourly, moving my hand into my pocket and rubbing my phone screen with the pad of my thumb uncertainly. “He’s my brother.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling.” Takao nodded, crossing his arms on the desk and resting his head on them. Humming noises filled the air as he tried to pass the time. I appreciated it when he switched back to our old topic, “so, did you notice anything around the other shops?”

“Yeah, they’re all trading drugs,” I remembered Kise’s blob of yellow hair through the windowpane my first day, approaching chocolate boy and Pizza Hut guy. “Kise, the guy from Harrod’s, and the one from Pizza Hut with the white hair.”

“Trading d—ahahaha! No, no, it’s—“ Takao faded into a puddle of giggles, burrowing his face into the crook of his elbow as his back quivered from contained laughter. Moments later he resurfaced wearing a contented smile. “No, no, it’s not drugs, it’s an exchange. The shops here all used to rival each other for the most customers since they’re a little out of this world.” It was a little hard to imagine how Pizza Hut could be ‘out of this world’, but I decided not to fight it. “But then someone cancelled an order of like a hundred pizzas at the last second and half of them were already in the oven, so Haizaki—the pizza hut guy—went around like shoving them in people’s faces. And then he ended up giving the rest of them to us and Harrod’s, so now whenever we have extras we stock up on them and then trade at the end of the month.”

“That’s…pretty weird.” But cool, in a way. At least Kise wasn’t a drug dealer, right? That would’ve put a damper on our nonexistent relationship. 

“Hey, wanna get coffee sometime tomorrow? I’ll show you around the square or something.” 

I raised an eyebrow. On one hand, Takao was also hot—okay, pretty much everyone in the store was hot, but still. And he was easy to talk to, and seemingly trustworthy. But on the other…Kise. _Kise._ Maybe I was just reading into it too much. Yeah, that was probably it.

“Sure.” What could it hurt, right?

 

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

Jolly Roger Coffee was a bustling little shop stacked neatly between Kiseki Books and the patisserie, home to a variety of plain but kind and heartfelt workers. The employees all sported dark red smocks and black shirts and pants, with a white visor to complete the look. The décor was dark and woodsy; burnt umber floors a little scuffed up, burgundy walls, and hanging light fixtures. Chairs were placed around hand-carved tables and the plush loveseats and couches were centered by a massive brick-wall, home to a large fireplace. Smells wafted in through the patisserie, giving the shop a very nice smell.

I glanced around and found Takao wedged into a chair by the fireplace, a steaming coffee in his hands, tapping the armrest with one hand and texting with the other. He wore black jeans and a dark green hoodie zipped up to keep the frigid outside air at bay, and the incredibly worn-out orange converse he’d worn every day that week. Not very date-like clothing, I noted, which was a good sign (I think?). His knees were drawn up to his chest, and I realized he was probably cold from the ride here.

“Hey,” I greeted as I sat down next to him and, yeah, from where his side was pressed against mine in the seat I could feel how cold he was. “Did you walk here or something?”

“Yeah, Shin-chan has the car today,” he chattered, leaning into me.

“I know how that goes,” I said, thinking of Imayoshi and Momoi. More often than not one of them would claim the shoddy little Subaru badly parked underneath our apartment complex.

“You had roommates? I thought you stayed with Oikawa.”

Honestly, I was surprised he remembered something like that. I leaned back into the cushions. “We’re actually…not talking right now. I just—I needed to get out of there. My friends Imayoshi and Momoi share an apartment, and they had a guest bedroom they said I could use.”

“Ah,” Takao nodded. “That sucks.”

“It does,” I agreed. “So you room with Midorima?”

“Oh, no,” he waved me off, “but we live close to each other. Both of us needed a car when he was still in school and I was an ambulance driver, so we hocked some stuff and bought one together. I actually live in one of Miyaji’s friend Ootsubo’s apartments.”

“Oh?” Is that who Miyaji was dating? Then again, would it really be okay for Takao to live there if that was the case?

“And no, that’s not who Miyaji’s dating,” Takao snickered. “Damn, Mr. Detective, you’re pretty easy to read. Nah, he’s dating Hayama, remember? Ootsubo’s his ex-work friend.”

“Ah.” Right, I’d forgotten about Hayama. I wondered what kind of character he was, seeing as everyone working in the bookstore was a mixed bag. 

“By the way, you’re never going to catch Ki-chan’s eye dressed like that.” He smirked when I glared at him.

“Who said I was trying to—“

“Please, I’m good at reading people. Don’t even _try_ lying to me.” He pouted. “Anyway, back to what I was saying. Ki-chan’s not shallow, but you aren’t exactly showing off your assets with that clothing.”

We were heading into conversational territory I was not prepared to enter. “Uh…”

“God, come on. We’re going shopping.” He turned to the brunette girl at the counter. “Thanks for the coffee, Riko! It’s as good as ever.”

She smiled at him and gave me the eyebrow-raise as we walked out, Takao’s hand attached firmly to the sleeve of my jacket. The rain was freezing cold and I immediately dragged him back under the shelter of the alcove. 

“We don’t have to—“

“I’m not giving you a choice.” Takao said flatly, checking his watch. “Trust me, Ki-chan needs something like this, and I can tell you do, too.”

He was serious about shopping. We ended up traversing over ten shops, perusing one market, and bartering stubbornly once with an aggressive street vendor. Much to my embarrassment I didn’t have enough to pay for all of it—Takao had damn expensive taste, not that I’d tell him that—but that didn’t seem to be a problem since he went into every store with the intention to pay for everything _for_ me. We ended up going dutch nearly every time, and I wondered where his money came from now if he’d been so broke a while ago.

“Fine,” I sighed as he swiped his card for a jacket. It was the last of the flock of clothing I would add to my closet, and he insisted on paying for it. When it was bagged and we were out of the store, I grabbed him by the bicep and yanked him away from the store he was heading towards. “I’m hungry; we’re getting lunch.”

Takao rolled his amber-colored eyes but allowed me to drag him to Mama Shin’s. When we sat down he pointed to a lanky server near the back. “See him?” He asked, waggling his finger at the man. “That’s Hayama. He’s dating Miyaji-senpai.”

I raised my eyebrows and tried to get a better angle. Hayama was by no means ugly, but...still. Kise was beautiful, but Miyaji was hands down the hottest person I’d ever seen. Even though Hayama was pretty good looking, I instinctively wondered if he ever felt insecure about that fact, or worried that Miyaji would leave him searching for a more attractive partner (not that Miyaji was shallow, but looking at Hayama, it’s just— _how_?).

Suddenly Hayama glanced over at our table and my eyes flickered onto the menu, though Takao didn’t bother to try hiding his watchful gaze. Instead he grinned and waved a little, and Hayama’s face lit up as he dropped off some side dishes at a table. He gravitated over to us slowly, like how a glacier melts into a body of water. 

“Hey, man!” He greeted Takao, and they fist bumped, “what’s up? Who’s this?”

“Aomine,” I greeted, lifting a hand momentarily. Everything about Hayama was putting me on edge for some reason: his dangerous smile, his pearly snaggletooth, and his dancing eyes. The way he observed me was weird, in an ADHD way, like every time something moved even in the slightest his eyes were drawn to it and that something just happened to be me. He was familiar in the very wrong way people are when you only see them at their work, like teachers and cashiers, and should not exist near you outside of their work.

“Hm,” Hayama glared at me a little and I raised an eyebrow and shrugged. Well, if he didn’t like me then that was his problem. “You guys want anything?”

“Two things of tofu fried rice,” Takao nodded cheerfully, his grin widening, which either meant he hadn’t picked up on the tension, or he had and was enjoying it immensely. “Shin-chan says hi.”

“Tell the green bastard I said hi back!” Hayama exclaimed, snatching up our orders and hopping away. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and leaned back in the comfortable leather padding of the booth. Takao leaned back too and propped his legs up next to mine on the seat, barely long enough to make it work.

“So, how’s it going in general?” He asked. “With the whole—thing.” 

I would really have to start rethinking being friends with this guy.

“It’s not really any of your business.” I said, crossing my arms and leaning back. 

“Oh? Why not?” Takao sounded a little peeved, and he cocked an eyebrow. 

“Because we’re not friends!” I exclaimed. When a few people sent me irritated looks and a wave of hurt flashed over Takao’s face, I tried to backpedal. “We’re friends, I didn’t mean that, I just…don’t know you well enough yet.”

“Mm-hmm.” Takao snorted, playing with his straw. I could see Hayama glaring daggers at me from the corner. “Okay. Sure. That’s why you told me you got shot.” 

“That’s diff—“

“Food’s ready!” Hayama chirped, practically slamming the plates down in front of us. I honestly believe he grabbed the plates from someone else’s table just to interrupt us—there was no way our food got done that quickly. He had a sharp look in his eye as he surveyed the booth. “You need anything else?”

“Nope,” Takao answered, his eyes dancing over Hayama as he sighed. “Seriously, man, we’re fine.”

Hayama’s frown was thick but the blonde finally retreated, and when he did I felt compelled to apologize again.

“Look, it’s not that I don’t—“

“I get it.” Takao interrupted, shaking his head. “It’s something that takes time. I was just being an ass about it.”

Well, now I felt like shit. “No, I just...it’s hard for me. To—talk about it. And he’s been texting and calling a lot lately so it’s just…I’ve been kind of irritable.” 

“Have you responded to them?” Takao leaned forward and began to dig in. I didn’t have it in me to look him in the face as I responded, so I opted for resting my chin on my hand and staring out the window at the darkening sky. 

“No,” I mumbled, my breath puffing over my palm and raising goosebumps. The steam from our fried rice curled and danced gracefully in the air. “It’s not like I don’t want to. I don’t—I don’t know why I can’t face him.” 

We didn’t say anything for a while, choosing to eat in melancholy silence. As if aware of the mood at our table, Hayama managed not to interrupt us at all other than to drop off some tea on the house and ruffle Takao’s hair a little. Rain began to pitter against the long windows, adding to our subdued atmosphere, and after a long pause between bites Takao put down his utensil and sighed.

“Do you really think you can go on like this?” He asked finally.

I stopped, staring down at my near-empty plate before meeting his gaze. “No,” I admitted, and began to realize why I was hesitant to contact my roommate. “I want to know why. Why I feel so—shitty. Before I see him.” I watched as Takao took hold of his napkin and began to shred it absentmindedly, half-expecting a reply. When one didn’t arrive, I continued. “It’s not like I did anything wrong. Hell, I tackled him out of the way! If I hadn’t been there he would’ve d—“ a lump the size of Canada appeared in the back of my throat, raw and unforgiving, which kept me from finishing. Takao’s expression didn’t change, and for that I was eternally grateful.

“Did I ever tell you the time Muro-chan got hit by a car?” He said finally, and I blanched.

“What the fuck?”

“It’s related, I swear.” Takao snorted, waving off my protests and staring fondly out the window and into the storm. “He and Kuroko really didn’t get along when Muro-chan first started. It’s ‘cause Kuroko likes Kagami, who’s Muro-chan’s roommate, so they were both a little jealous of each other. And Miyaji-senpai got really sick of it,” he chuckled at the memory and paused for a minute to think. “He told them ‘get out, you brats! Go for a walk and don’t come back until you get along!’ Of course, it was raining. From what Kuroko says—Muro-chan doesn’t remember any of it, he passed out—they were walking and a car made a sharp turn and slid in the mud, and Muro-chan pushed him away just in time.”

“God,” I breathed, eyes wide. “And he was okay?!”

“Yeah. It was right outside the back of Mura-chan’s patisserie, so he ran out and helped. But Muro-chan felt guilty after and he couldn’t face Kuroko for a while. Actually,” Takao laughed, “Kuroko felt the same way. Muro-chan was convinced it was his fault since he was the new worker causing the problems that forced them to go on the walk. Kuroko felt bad that he wasn’t the one to get hit, I think, even if he didn’t say it.”

“That’s stupid, it’s not predictable. There’s no way to blame either of them for a freak accident.” Then I began to realize why he brought it up. “…You think I’m blaming myself for what happened?”

Takao smiled a little secretively and rested his cheek on his hand. “A car accident and a shooting are very different things.” He answered noncommittally, and then reached out and grabbed Hayama’s elbow as he passed. “We’re ready for the check.”

“Nah,” Hayama shook his head. “’s on the house. See you later.” 

“See you,” Takao grinned, waving a little as Hayama left to see to a table across the room. “So, I’m a little worn out. I’ll see you next Saturday, yeah? And don’t forget all your bags.” He winked and slid out of the booth.

“Yeah,” I nodded, still not done with my food. I didn’t blame him for wanting to leave—we’d spent nearly four hours shopping and other hour having one of the heaviest conversations of my life. Besides, I had some things I needed to chew over. “Thanks. Seriously; thank you.”

“You’re on the all day shift with Kise tomorrow, right? Make a move! Oh—and he takes his peppermint hot chocolate with extra chocolate, no whip.”

“Mm.” I nodded as he left, turning so I could watch him dash through the pouring rain to where his bike was locked up under Kiseki’s alcove, and once he had biked out of view I turned back to my food. Pushing my plate over next to Takao’s, I pulled out my phone and took a deep breath before punching in a number.

_“Hello?”_

“Hey. We need to talk.”


	4. My Own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A surprise appearance from a certain king...

Nijimura and Miyaji, despite Miyaji only working two days a week, co-owned the bookstore. It was their baby, their home, their lives. It was where Miyaji and Hayama met for the “first” time, and where Midorima walked in, having just discovered he wanted to go into pediatrics, in the middle of a meltdown. It was where a wet and depressed Aomine was invited inside to wait for the rain to stop.

It was where Nijimura pulled in a soaked brunette by the hood, despite the kid’s squirming. 

“Dry him,” he ordered, shoving the brunette over to Kuroko, who backed up and let the boy right himself before nodding obediently and bending to set down his stack of books on an empty part of a shelf. The two padded over to the musty little antique desk the register perched on; it creaked and slanted to the side when Kuroko pulled open a drawer and retrieved a towel, holding it out to the pale-faced brunette.

Deciding he better get a hold on this, Nijimura leaned on the other side of the desk and gave the kid _that look_ —the one he gave Haizaki whenever the idiot did something stupid, the one he gave Midorima every time the man brought in an excessively large lucky item. “So what’s your name, brat?”  
“Oikawa.” Came the pouty reply, followed by: “And I’m nineteen.”

“You’re still a kid.” Nijimura responded automatically, taking Oikawa in. Apart from his attractively ruffled looks and devious eyes, he looked just like any other broke college student. He had on a thin blue jacket, a white t-shirt, dark brown pants, and beaten up tennis shoes that were covered in mud. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he looked a little feverish. “You’re not here for the usual business, are you?”

Oikawa’s mood darkened considerably, and he pulled the towel over his head to avoid looking at either of them. “No,” he said, voice muffled, “I’m here looking for…someone.”

“Who—“

“Hey, sorry I’m late.” Aomine said as he walked in. Oikawa froze, eyes wide, and his towel dropped to the ground.

Aomine got one look at him, turned, and ran out.

 

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

 

_No. No, no no no no no—_

“Woah, hey! Where’s the fire?” Kise startled when I nearly bowled him over in my sprint. I slowed, down, my breath falling short into gasps, and tried to keep my vision steady as my eyes watered. Without warning I collapsed to my knees, pushing myself back into the solid brick wall of the alley between Pizza Hut and the bus station. Rain soaked the back of my shirt, and I heard Kise make a panicked noise before dropping his bag and kneeling by my side.

Warm fingertips brushed my shoulders, sending goosebumps down my arms, and then Kise was pressing his palms flat to my skin and sliding them up to rub the back of my neck comfortingly. I leaned into them, trying to breathe. My lungs burned from lack of oxygen, and I vaguely realized that I was hyperventilating. 

My vision darkened for a few minutes. When I opened my eyes again, a cold fleece hat was crammed over my head and Kise was holding my shirt over my mouth with his palm cupping over it. With his hand and the shirt, I realized, he’d forced me to breathe slower. Concern littered his expression, and he hung up with whoever he’d been on the phone with.

“Just breathe. In and out, come on, it’s okay. It’s okay. Just breathe. I’m right here, just breathe with me, ok? Everything is fine.” He murmured under his breath, which came out in hot puffs against my cheek. I heard the rumble of the sky as the rain poured down, and could make out Kise’s translucent orange umbrella balanced precariously on his shoulder, doing it’s best to shield us from it.

Weakly, I pushed away his hand and sucked in a breath of fresh air. 

“I—I’m—I’m—“ I gasped, still regaining my breath. Kise stared back at me, and I was surprised to see how fierce his gaze was.

“I know.” His gaze was straightforward and serious. “I know. It’s ok, what’s happening isn’t dangerous at all. Just breathe in and out. I’m here. Everything is going to be fine. Can you sit up for me?”

Panic welled in my chest and I let out a shaky breath. I could barely hear him over the sound of my heart thundering in my ears. Vaguely, I wondered if this was what a heart attack felt like. His hands disappeared and chills went up and down my spine. My legs and hands were numb and I could barely feel my cheek against the cold, wet ground.

“Hey.” My eyes shot open, even though I couldn’t remember closing them. Tears ran from one eye down my face and into the other, making them sting. Kise was curled up on the ground next to me, facing me, maybe a foot away. He reached out and grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “Hey. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. So we’re just going to wait and, when you’re ready, we can move.”

I squeezed his hand like a lifeline and let my eyes slide shut again. Images fluttered over them: Oikawa’s expression of fear, his eyes wide; the suspect, his dirty fingers flicking off the safety of his gun, his haunting stare; the gun. I jumped as the ghost crack of a gunshot filled my head, and squeezed Kise’s hand even harder. He was here. I was here.

Oikawa was here.

I breathed. Then, slowly, I opened my eyes. Kise watched me through golden eyes, his pale cheek pressed into the cement, and when we made eye contact we seemed to come to a mutual understanding.

“Okay,” he breathed, “everything is fine. We’ll go through the back to the shop and get you cleaned up, okay? I’ll stay with you.” I nodded jerkily, allowing Kise to crouch and slowly coax me to stand. We were both soaked enough to look like we’d jumped in a pool. He reached his arm around and put it around my shoulders, and guided me down the alley. 

I don’t remember reaching the employee’s room, but when we got there, Kise sat me down on the couch and stood to grab some dry towels and a few orange volunteer shirts. He came back and kneeled in front of me, letting the silence be my salvation, and grabbed my freezing hands to help me lean forward. Then he patiently peeled off my jacket and shirt and toweled my hair.

The main door opened, and I heard Kise murmur something before wet black hair entered my field of vision with a melancholy “Hey.”

Takao.

Blindly I reached out, my vision still blurry and too-bright, and when I felt his hand I grabbed it and lurched forward, stumbling into him and gasping for breath. I grabbed the back of his hoodie and felt the wind get knocked out of him from the force of it, just comforted by the fact that the one person who I was closest to at work was there.

After a few minutes he gently but firmly pried my hands from his hoodie and stepped back to grab some towels; he dried my back as Kise toweled my hair and front. He murmured something in a low, soothing tone to Kise, who nodded and reached out to hug me. It was nice. It was firm; it was real. He grounded me, and I felt Takao squeeze my good shoulder before padding back out to give us privacy.

In Kise’s arms, and with him in mine, my mind finally began to start up again. I stopped hearing the strange thudding in my ears, and the tightness in my chest decreased. I stopped clenching my stomach in tension and anxiety. My eyes were dry and stung from the tears that had finally stopped falling.

“I’m here.” Kise said quietly, and pressed his cheek into my clavicle, his breath coming in hot puffs against my chilled skin. I gripped him tight and felt a surge of comfort and belonging. “Whatever it is you’re going through, I’m here.”

My grip tightened.

“I know.”

 

 

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

 

 

“Let me see him!” Oikawa protested wildly, fighting the tight grip Nijimura had on his arms. 

“Calm _down_ ,” Nijimura hissed, swearing quietly when the kid elbowed him in the ribs. Kuroko watched unhelpfully from the background, having always been a fan of letting people fuck up their shit and learn from it later. Izuki still hadn’t made an appearance, assumedly because he was busy upstairs stocking a few shelves.

“Hey!” The trio looked up when Takao appeared from the hallway looking absolutely pissed. He strode right up to Oikawa and got in his face. “Are you Oikawa?”

Ye—“

“I get that you went through something terrible. And I get that he wasn’t responding to you. That sucks. But you seriously, after trying to contact him 24/7, couldn’t at least find a way to _warn him_ that you were coming?” Takao’s expression calmed slightly when he noticed how worried Oikawa was, but he held his ground and crossed his arms stubbornly. When Oikawa escaped Nijimura’s grip and went to get to the door, Takao fearlessly stepped in his way, despite being at least five inches shorter. “No. You need to give him time to breathe. You’re already here, however the hell you managed that. You’re going to see him eventually. But seeing as you’ve given Aomine pretty much no control over this situation, you’re going to give him this.”

“What the hell do you know about—“

“I was an ambulance driver for three years you arrogant little brat, and I know post traumatic stress when I see it. And maybe if you took a chance to _think_ about what you two went through, what _he_ went through, you’d see it too.”

Oikawa opened his mouth, and then promptly shut it after seeing the no-nonsense look on Takao’s face. Instead, he let his bottom lip quaver and sagged his shoulders in defeat, glancing around before scooting over to a little wooden stool in the corner and sitting on it.

“It’s like, I know that he wasn’t ready to see me,” He said softly, picking at his nails. “I’m not ready to see him either. But not—not knowing if he was ok out…here? Not at least getting _something_ that says, like, ‘hey, I know we can’t talk, but here’s a sign that I’m ok’? They wouldn’t let me see him in the hospital. When I came back and he was gone, they wouldn’t tell me where he went.” Cue deep, pitiful breath. “They wouldn’t tell me anything.”  
“The fact that you were able to find him means you knew he was here,” Nijimura pointed out.

“That’s different,” Takao defended Oikawa, looking conflicted. “It just is; I don’t know why. Even knowing someone’s ok…you have to see them in person.” He shook his head. “But that doesn’t matter, because it’s still a pretty shitty thing to do, showing up unannounced.”

Oikawa sniffled.

“So don’t do it again.”

Oikawa sniffled again. Takao sighed for the zillionth time before dragging over a chair so he could sit next to the brunette. Nijimura and Kuroko gauged the situation carefully before nodding to Takao and resuming their jobs (thankfully, Kiseki had just opened and there weren’t any customers yet). 

“How long ‘s he been working here?” Oikawa finally spoke. Takao turned to face him.

“This is the beginning of his third week.”

“And you’re like his—what—his boyfriend?” 

Takao stared at him for a minute. And then he slapped a hand over his mouth to keep from giggling. “That idiot? No, no, we’re not—no.”

Oikawa still looked suspicious. “So you’re interested in someone else?”

“I don’t have to be interested in someone else to not be interested in him.” Takao replied, before glancing around and realizing that he had a different problem to address. So he turned his chair to face Oikawa’s. “So. Are _you_ okay?” 

Oikawa looked down at his hands. “I dunno. Like, I miss him. But…this was just, like, such a messed up situation. I wanna stay in contact with him even though I probably can’t, and I moved out of the apartment. I’m staying with some friends and in like two weeks I’m flying out to my transfer school.”

“You’re leaving?” Takao grimaced, wondering how Aomine would take it. 

“Just…don’t tell him, okay? He barely saw me before he got a panic attack, I don’t even know what he’d do if he knew I was, like, up and leaving.”  
Takao opened his mouth and then thought a moment before closing it again. What could he possibly say in this situation? Personally, Takao felt pretty accomplished with what he’d done already. After getting a call from Kise and frantically pedaling the rickshaw into town, he’d helped calm Aomine down. He’d also gotten Aomine and Kise alone time, and now he was keeping Oikawa from making stupid decisions like rushing in to see a certain officer. Yeah, it was time to give them some space. There was only so much to happen in one day.

“Okay. Get up,” Takao stood and pulled Oikawa up before pushing him into the Plants and Herbs section. “Go wander around for a while. We’ll get you when he’s ready to talk.” Oikawa looked hesitant to leave, but Takao gave him a death glare that got him to move.

It was going to be a long day.


	5. Comfortably Numb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kise and Takao deal with the aftermath of Aomine's panic attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! I'm so, so sorry about the late update...finals really slaughtered me. I hope you all have been doing well! Please read & review! Your feedback keeps me going!

I sat on the couch with my legs propped on a little cardboard box of _Fifteen Habits **You** Should Have _ as Kise shuffled about the room and rearranged things. Takao sat on the arm of the couch, leaning against my shoulder and throwing peanut m &m’s into his mouth. They were both remarkably talented at avoiding talking about what was actually important.

“I’m not some kind of breakable doll.” I bit out. Today sucked. I was tired and cold and overwhelmed, and now everyone was walking on glass. Takao and Kise shared a look, Kise staring pleadingly at him, before Takao nodded in resignation. He slid down between me and the arm, propping his feet next to mine. Kise sat down on my other side.

“What do you want us to say?” Takao asked eventually.

“I don’t fucking know!” I snapped. “I don’t—I don’t understand why you’re all helping me! We all just met like a couple weeks ago, you barely know me, why are you helping me?! I just don’t get it! And—and _he’s_ out there, just walking around like nothing fucking happened!” God, my palms were sweaty.

“This bookstore—“ Kise began.

“—is just a bookstore!” I interrupted angrily. “It’s just a bookstore! You all go around acting like it’s some living thing and it’s _not_! None of you know me that well! What—do you want me to owe you or something?!”

“You’re new here,” Takao said quietly, and I gulped. He didn’t look happy. And glancing over at a teary Kise, I felt overwhelmed with guilt. “And you’re going through some rough stuff, so I’m electing to ignore what you just said. Aomine. He’s not going to see you until you want to see him. And no, this bookstore isn’t normal. The people who work here are family. You work here. That makes you family. So get used to it. We’re up in each other’s business a lot.” I opened my mouth and—“shut up. Don’t talk for two seconds, okay?

We’re your family, whether you like it or not. And we’re with you for this; we’ll be here to help you. Figuring all of this out?” Takao gestured his hands to the store. “That’s up to you. We can help you and support you all you want, but this is something you have to work out yourself. If we do it for you, if we sort everything out, you’ll never grow. So. You two stay in here for another few minutes, and then you need to decide what your plan is, Aomine. How are _you_ going to deal with this?” 

I gaped. No one had ever spoken to me that way. Did this mean Takao didn’t like me? It sure didn’t seem like it—but if he didn’t then why would he bother? Could people really make a friendship like that? Did he _like_ me or something? Before I could react, I realized Kise and I were alone in the room. My throat felt like there was a rock lodged in it, a little pebble in the back that hurt with raw pain when I swallowed.

“He’s like that,” Kise said after a minute. “That kind of friend. The one that’s more than just a friend, you know? He’s like…it’s different from a brother or a boyfriend, it’s almost more than that. He’s very important to all of us.” He paused, “we’re all important to each other. That—that includes you.” He blushed, and the rock became a little lighter in my throat.

“Keep talking,” I said. His voice was relaxing and smooth, and it helped calm me down. “Just…please.”

Kise smiled and leaned into me, closing his eyes. “I really didn’t know what to make of you the first time I saw you. You were, like, this hulking, soaked figure in the rain, and I couldn’t see your face since you were kind of in the shadows. So I may have thought you were a homeless person? Imagine my surprise, when you come inside and it’s this ruggedly handsome policeman. He won’t say it, but I think you spooked Miyaji-senpai, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” his gentle smile widened, and the knot in my chest began to loosen. “He’s kind of, like, legendary among the employees. Since he only works two days a week, so it took a while for everyone to meet him. He’s so independent, so for the longest time Akashicchi assumed he was just this random customer who liked showing up on Wednesdays. It was funny.”

“…Akashicchi?” I hadn’t met the stern-looking redhead yet, even though we worked part of the same shift on Thursdays. He was quiet, with lethal red eyes and pale skin.

“Oh! Yeah, Akashi. You should call him Akashi-sama, that’ll really throw him for a loop.” Kise snickered, then let out a surprised little huff when I leaned back into him, pressing our shoulders together. It took me a minute to gather up enough courage to launch forward and hug him, wrapping my arms tightly around him. 

_“Thank you,_ ” I whispered. Kise rubbed my back a little bit and hummed lightly. 

“We all need help every now and then,” he replied. “Takaocchi’s right, though. It’s time to figure it out; what are you going to do, Aomine?”

I grimaced. “I…ok. Ok. I know what I’m going to do.”

I squeezed him a little tighter, let go, and walked out.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 

He looked older. Sleep-deprived eyes. A heavy weight on his back that made his shoulders sag and his smile droop. Oikawa looked older than he ever had before. Maybe I was gone longer than I thought.

My heart still stuttered, though, when Oikawa turned and faced me with wide eyes. The brunette took a step forward that I instinctively took a step back to before, with a tight frown, I forced myself to stay put.

“Hey.” I said.

“Hey,” he replied uncertainly. Good. “I—it’s good to see you.”

I didn’t know what to say. “You too.” I glanced around. No one was within my range of vision, but that didn’t mean nosy employees weren’t lurking. “You could’ve called.”

“Would you have answered?” Fair point. I grimaced and looked off to the side. Just like usual, Oikawa, who hated silence, filled it up with his voice. “I miss you. Y-you were like a big brother to me…and all of the sudden you became this stranger. Before I knew it, you were gone.” His voice cracked. “They wouldn’t let me s-see you in the hospital!”

“C’mere,” I sighed, closing my eyes and using one arm to pull him close. He smelled like ink and peppermint, a strange but pleasant combination. After everything, no matter how much my chest still ached at seeing him, it felt nice to have him close. My heart rate still pounded full speed, but I could feel some of my muscles relaxing after having been tensed for so long. “I need to pick up some coffee for everyone. Come with me.” 

“O-ok,” Oikawa agreed, voice muffled by my chest. When I pulled back and began to walk away, he followed close behind.

Nijimura was at the register near the front when I passed it, and his eyes were dark and knowing. Lips slipped into a flat line, he nodded and busied himself with the bookkeeping, his brows furrowed slightly in concentration. “Be back quickly,” he ordered, his voice scratchy and low.

“Mm,” I nodded, bracing myself for the wet cold air. It was humid out, and rain continued to pour down from the bruised sky. Grimacing when my sneakers filled up with water like sponges, I glanced over. Oikawa had his nose scrunched up distastefully—he’d always hated the rain—and even with waterproof shoes, he hesitated to step onto the wet pavement. “Come on, you baby,” I said, grabbing his arm and dragging him out. He made a noise of protest, but subdued and leaned into my grip after a minute. Surprised, I nearly let go.

“So,” he fiddled with the sleeve of his jacket as he padded along beside me. Jolly Roger’s wasn’t too far of a walk, thankfully. “How do you like this work?”

“It’s good,” I shrugged. I think he could tell that I wasn’t quite committed, because his eyes narrowed.

“…I really fucked up,” he said quietly after a pause, staring dejectedly down at his shoes. My heart leapt up into my throat. I tried to say something but nothing came out. Before I could get my act together, he tucked his head away and said, “oh, this is probably it!”

I reached out my hand to grab his shoulder, to stop him, to say something. My fingertips brushed his back as he walked into the warm coffee shop.

“Hello! Welcome to Jolly Roger’s Coffee!” Riko, a petite girl with short brown hair and a relentless attitude, welcomed. Oikawa smiled at her, fake and cutesy, and I could see the exact moment she saw through his act. Riko wasn’t one to be messed with. “Oh! It’s a brat, today!”

“E-eh?!” Oikawa pouted, “I’m not a brat, hag!” He pulled down one of his eyelids and stuck his tongue out. Noticing Riko looked ready to parkour over the counter and kick him in the face, I hooked an arm around Oikawa and dragged him to the ordering area. 

“It’ll be the usual, for us. Takao popped in too, if you could make him something.” I leaned in to mutter in Oikawa’s ear. “You’re not gonna win that battle, trust me.”

“I do,” he answered with the utmost sincerity. I blanched, relaxing to fight the panic fluttering in my ears. “Listen…I—“

“Oi! Aomine-kun! Do you guys want some leftover pastries? We made extra last night.” Riko cut in. _Jesus christ, will we ever be able to talk to each other without someone interrupting?_ I groaned inwardly. 

“Sure, just box them up.” Might as well be blunt. “We’re gonna have a kind of serious talk, so just set them off to the side and I’ll get them when we’re done.”

“O-oh…okay,” she nodded curiously, before her mood subdued. It took her a while, but when she set her mind to it she could read her surrounding atmosphere quite well. Nodding thankfully, I padded away with Oikawa still hooked under my arm. He smiled wanly.

“Listen…I…” He gulped. “I’m…leaving. This place. My flight leaves before the end of the week.”

It felt like someone punched me in the gut. I grimaced, reigning in my pulse and erratic breathing, and tried to remain at least a semblance of calm. “O-oh. That’s…” I sucked in a breath and held it in. Oikawa’s face flashed briefly guilt before shifting to worry.

“I wanted to see you…that’s why I couldn’t wait for later.” He looked down. “I needed to see that you were ok. It was selfish, and shitty, and I know that. I just needed to…they…” His voice wavered. Quietly, he finished with, “they wouldn’t let me…in the hospital…and in…” His voice cracked and his shoulders hunched in desperately.

Unsure of what else to do, I reached over the table and grasped his hand, squeezing it. “I know.” I wondered what Takao would do in this situation. He always seemed to have everything figured out. I felt jealous; what I wouldn’t give to know what the people around me need right when they need it.

Oikawa didn’t say anything, just squeezed back and blinked away some stray tears. His ears were bright red, but then again, he was almost never this straightforward about how he felt. It must’ve taken a lot of courage to find me…

Thinking about that cleared my head. I smiled, albeit a little bitterly. “That’s—that’s great, Tooru. I know you really wanted to try living somewhere new.”

Oikawa stared at me dumbly for a moment before nodding and collecting himself. “Thanks! So…you seem to like that bookstore~”

“Ugh. Don’t even—“

“I heard through the grapevine that a certain model goes there, am I right?” Oikawa’s brown eyes sparkled. “If it’s not that raven guy, then it’s definitely him…Kise Ryouta. So? Am I right?”

I blushed and glanced out the window. The rain, though still falling, seemed to be letting up a little. “…You’re not _wrong_ …” At the admission, he squeezed my hand really tight and let out an excited giggle. 

“You have to keep me updated after I leave! I want to know when you confess!”

“I will,” I said earnestly. God…he was leaving. He probably wouldn’t ever come back.

“I’ve been thinking about it…” Oikawa began, the mood sobering up again, “and I just—-why didn’t you let me talk to you? Why wouldn’t you ever answer any of my texts or calls or emails or…anything?”

I gulped, and my hand retreated from the table. “I…” I thought back to my conversation with Takao. “I blamed myself, for what happened. If I had just told you what was going on, or double checked to make sure you weren’t following me…if I’d caught the perp sooner…I couldn’t stop thinking of all the things I could’ve done to prevent it.”

“You know, I did the exact same thing.” My head whipped up in surprise. Oikawa’s expression was bitter despite his smile. He watched the rain patter against the pavement through half-lidded eyes. “When I was still hospitalized. When I couldn’t see you. When…What if I had trusted you enough to let you deal with it? What if I hadn’t followed you? What if I just went to your office and asked around instead?” He sighed and buried his face into the crook of his elbow. “It sucks. It hurts a lot, all the time.” 

“Oikawa…” I didn’t know what to say, at first. Why would he feel like that? It wasn’t his fault I completely closed off from him and left him in the dark. It wasn’t his fault I drove him to the point where he followed me that night. _‘There’s no way to blame either of them for a freak accident’_. I reached forward and ruffled his hair. “It’s not your fault, and it’s not mine. Neither of us could have known that would happen. It was random, and unpreventable, and it wasn’t anyone’s fault. Ok?”

He looked up, face flushed from the heat trapped in his elbow, with an unreadable expression. “…You’re changed.” He says after a minute, cocking his head slightly to the side. I raised my eyebrows.

“Well, is it a good change?”

“Mmm,” Oikawa grinned deviously, avoiding answering my question. I snorted and got up. 

“Come on, you brat. Let’s get coffee. Also, you need to apologize to Takao and Kise.”

“Ahh, fine, fine! But only if you promise to find me once I leave~”

I smiled. “Deal.”

 

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

 

“Shh!” Takao hissed when we walked in. Next to him, Nijimura was asleep bent over the counter, head buried in his arms. _Good. He looked really tired._ I put the coffee down on an unopened box of _Language Textbooks For All Ages!_ and Oikawa set the pastries down nearby. Takao automatically reached out for his cup and took a sip. “Ahh~ double-chocolate and extra milk, you know me so well.”

I shook my head in exasperation and grabbed my own cup of black. “You’re crazy. That’s way too sweet.”

“You’re just jealous I don’t have to watch my figure~” His grin faded slightly. “So, everything’s all worked out?” He froze carefully when Nijimura made a noise and shifted so he was leaning slightly against the ravenette. 

“Yeah,” I replied, hushed. Oikawa shifted on his feet before stepping forward and bowing. 

“I’m sorry,” he said plainly. Takao looked fairly surprised, but masked it well after a few seconds.

“Well, you should be.” I grimaced. Was he actually pissed or something? Oikawa looked up too, a little hurt. “But…who can blame you? Just think more rationally before you pull a stunt like that, next time.”

“I will,” Oikawa promised, eyes wide. _Ah, jeez. Takao, you sneaky bastard._

“Good. Well, I’m gonna pick up this slacker’s shift for now,” he grinned, teasing and glancing down at Nijimura. “You two keep quiet. You know who’s working today, right?”

“Not really,” I scratched the back of my head. “I still haven’t memorized the schedule.”

“Ah. Shun-chan and Kuro-chan are around opening, too. You and Ki-chan are all day, and Muro-chan, Akashi-sama, and Shin-chan will be here at two-thirty.” Oh. Looks like maybe I could meet Akashi today. Hmm…

“Kay. Thanks.” I leaned in so I could speak without Oikawa hearing. “Seriously, thanks. I’ll make it up to you.”

“It was no problem. Just check in whenever you have a second.” Takao shrugged, pushing me away by the shoulder. Nijimura grunted when he was jostled lightly, but didn’t wake. “Now go and bring Kise-kun his hot chocolate! Oh, and Oikawa-chan, make sure you stop by before you leave.”

“I will, thanks!” Oikawa beamed. When I strode off with no warning, he made a disgruntled noise and followed. “So, I get to meet the famous Kise Ryouta now?”

“Ye—oh, shit!” I jumped out of the way, barely avoiding running into Kuroko. The bluenette glanced over at me, eyeing me critically before bowing to Oikawa. 

“My name is Kuroko Tetsuya. It’s a pleasure to meet one of Aomine-kun’s friends.” He bowed. Just like Tetsu to be ridiculously formal.

“Y-yeah. Er—thanks!” Oikawa bowed in response. When Kuroko nodded and went along his merry way, Oikawa turned to me. “Where did he come from?” He demanded.

“Who knows?” Probably hell. I turned another corner and found myself walking up some steps. They were plain compared to everything else in the bookstore; ordinary gray steps that creaked as I walked up them. Where they would lead I didn’t know, but might as well go up them. It’s not like I had a particular destination in mind. When we reached the top, I paused.

The room was unfamiliar. It happened once in a while, but I naively assumed a week ago, after finding a nook devoted specifically to futuristic porn, that I’d seen close to all of them. 

Judging from the construction of the area, this was the highest point in the building. It was an octagonal room, and nearly empty. There were windows on each wall overlooking the square and stretch of forest, the floor a brittle wood faded from sunlight. The thick smell of dust and green tea filled the brisk air, and I found myself with the gut feeling that Oikawa shouldn’t be here.

“I’m going to—Oikawa?” I turned. Oikawa stood at the foot of the stairs, not yet in the room, and watched me uncertainly. When I looked closer his mouth was forming a tight frown. “What?”

“You realize you can’t stay here, right?”

“What?”

“You can’t…you can’t stay here. You don’t have to go back to where you were before, but…” He paused, looking ready to take a step into the room before thinking better of it. “You get that, don’t you?”

“No?” I matched his frown with a deeper one. “Honestly, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You…” Oikawa’s face scrunched up and his bottom lip trembled. “You’re an idiot!”

“Eh?!”

“Ahomine! Idiot!” Oikawa shouted, shifting the air in the room, before he said quieter, “I’m going back down and finding Kise!” With that he whipped around and bolted down the stairs.

What an obnoxious kid. “Seriously, how did I even survive living with you?” I muttered. Yet at the same time, his episodes and excitable personality made me feel nostalgic. With a mixed smile, I took one last sweeping look at the room before following him. I shut the door carefully on my way out.

Kise, to Oikawa’s luck, was right by the staircase when we got to the bottom. There was a funny look on his face when I asked him what the room was, and instead he hugged both Oikawa and I and smiled “I’m glad you two worked it out!”

“You’re pretty!” Oikawa grinned, bouncing around to get a full view of Kise’s…assets. 

“Oi! Don’t be rude!” I ordered, a little embarrassed on his behalf and a little on Kise’s, and yanked him up by the back of his hoodie. “Sorry about that, Kise.”

“No, no, it’s fine!” Kise’s smile didn’t quiet reach his eyes, and it made me frown.

“Look, I…” _I’m sorry. This was so unprofessional and this was honestly the last thing I wanted you to see._ God, what a day. Having the guy you’ve been crushing on see you completely mentally break down.

“I’m sorry!” Oikawa interrupted with a deep bow. He held it, not looking either of us in the eyes. “I’m sorry for causing everyone such a hassle! It won’t happen again!”

“Ahh~ what else can I do but accept such an honest apology!” Kise said, blushing a little. “Aominecchi, you have such a straightforward little brother!”

“There’s no helping it,” I sighed, leaning down to noogie Oikawa. The kid squirmed and tried to wrestle away but there was no escape. “Listen, I’m gonna walk him out, but do you have time to talk during lunch?”

“Of course! I’ll meet you out by the science fiction room!” Kise smiled and leaned in to press his cheek to mine in a startlingly intimate gesture. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. I was really worried about you.”

“T-thanks,” I stuttered, feeling my ears heat up. _Ah, jeez_. With a quiet breath, he pulled away and patted the top of Oikawa’s head before padding off to help out a lost customer. “Ok, come on, brat.” When the brunette didn’t react, I looked down and my eyebrows shot up. Oikawa was staring down at the ground with watery eyes.

“W-we’re brothers!” He said finally, before suddenly he was hugging me tightly.

Jesus Christ, I’d forgotten what an emotional rollercoaster this kid was. “Yeah, yeah, stop crying.” I awkwardly rubbed his back with my hands in a motion I hoped was comforting. My hands were still shaky, but it was mostly under control. “It’s not like we’ll never see each other again after this, you know?” His grip tightened and he pressed his face further into my chest. “Hey, now, you’re gonna suffocate…”

Right on cue he flew back, face red from lack of oxygen. As he regained his breath, he held out a hand. Uncertain, I accepted it with my own.  
“T…Thank you!” He exclaimed, still a little breathless, and his eyes met mine. This side of him was absolutely sincere. “For everything.”  
“Don’t get into any more trouble while I’m gone, ok?”

“I won’t!” He promised adamantly. “And I’ll look after Momoi-chan and Imayoshi-kun too!” He gave a little parting bow before bouncing off.

“Hey!” I yelled after him. “It’s not like I’m dying or something! And wait up—“

“—get back to your job, lazy butt! I can find my way out!”

I watched his bright hoodie disappear behind a bookshelf, mind still reeling from everything that happened. My head hurt from earlier, and despite Takao and Kise’s efforts to dry me off, violent chills ran up and down my spine. _Yeah. I’m definitely gonna get sick after this._ Hopefully it wouldn’t be too bad. 

With a strangled smile I finally made my way to the employee’s break room and clocked in. Despite the pain of that day, I found a heavy burden lifted off of my shoulders.

That was the last day I would see Oikawa for a long, long time.


	6. Tears In Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aomine asks Kise out and meets a certain redheaded demon.

“Will you go out to lunch with me?” I asked abruptly the second I saw Kise sitting on a box of _It’s Time! Lose Weight Today!_. His hair was fluffy from air drying, and his cheeks were flushed. The tips of his ears and nose were a charming shade of bright red. No windows existed in the employee’s room, but the giant mirror on the wall reflected the dim lighting and made it brighter, made his hair looked like it glowed.

He was stunning.

“Huh?” He asked, glancing up from his magazine. On it were pictures of beautiful far-off places; white sand beaches and clear blue waves.

“Will you go out to lunch with me?” I repeated, a little more hesitant now. “To thank you for everything. You and Takao…” I struggled before giving up. “I don’t have the right words…sorry.”

At once his gaze softened, and a smile graced his smooth lips. “I understand, Aominecchi. Lunch sounds great. Does Saturday work for you?”

“Saturday sounds great,” I nodded, feeling unusually flighty. “And…I’m sorry. About all that stuff I said to you about not caring about the shop. To be honest—“

“Aominecchi, sit down.” Kise ordered, sounding fake-strict. With nowhere else to sit I chose the cold ground, and he crossed his arms. “You’re in a new city and you’re still getting used to everything and everyone. Something very traumatic happened to you today with people you probably don’t feel comfortable being so close to. Give yourself some props. Today was a rough day.”

The tiny stone in my throat dissolved. “It was,” I admitted, jumping when Kise grinned and bopped me on the head. 

“Good! Now that you understand that, let’s get back to work, hm? Just an hour until the closing people come, and you haven’t formally met any of them yet!” He pulled me up to my feet. “Plus, Takaocchi didn’t get much sleep last night and he’s covering Nijimuracchi’s shift, so let’s go get them!”

“A-aa…”

And so we headed out to the front. We found Kuroko manning the antique register at this point, with Takao and Nijimura asleep and leaning against each other. The bluenette raised a thin finger to his lips, eyes warm but dim. _Don’t wake them up._

We nodded, and as Kise shifted a deadweight Nijimura into a piggyback I did the same with Takao. Both of them were out cold, and even though they were less pronounced, Takao had dark circles under his eyes just like Nijimura did. I wondered, briefly, if I was being a bad friend to him. He definitely was helping me more than I ever helped him.

“Ahh, Nijimuracchi needs to eat more~” Kise whined quietly, even though his legs were trembling from the weight. Sunight filtered in and illuminated his face, before we ducked into the next room.

“Do you want to switch?” Takao wasn’t heavy at all, especially when comparing the one-and-a-half foot height difference between him and I. 

“N-no, we’re close,” Kise ground out, a determined glint in his eye. Honestly I wanted to do nothing more than kiss him senseless, and I bit my lip and casually looked the other way. _No. Don’t think of that._ This would be a horrible, horrible time to get a boner.

With a hand shaking from exertion he reached out and pushed his way into the dark, musty hallway, stumbling along through the pleasant glow of birthday-candlelight before reaching the circle door. “A-ah, don’t let me forget,” Kise pushed the door open with his sneaker, “because you need to make a name tag!”

“Ok,” I nodded, stepping in after him and watching him practically drop Nijimura on a pile of blankets. I set Takao nearby on the ground and draped a towel over him, seeing as our shop owner had monopolized the comforters.

“Ah, Kise-kun, Aomine-kun,” Kuroko popped his head through the door. “Izuki-kun is watching the front. I’m going to stop by Jolly Roger’s for a few minutes, I’ll be back shortly.”

“Have fun with Kagamicchi!” Kise stagewhispered, and I grinned when Kuroko’s face turned bright red. The quiet employee nodded to cover his embarrassment and took his leave. Kise and I moved over to the couch and sat down. “You haven’t met Kagamicchi yet either, have you?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know that many people here.”

“Ahh~you’ll like Kagamicchi, he’s kind of like you! You’re both…” Kise tilted his head to the side and bit his lip as he thought. “You’re both really easy to talk to.”

My heart jumped a little. “Kuroko said that, too.”

“Did he?” Kise laughed clear and high, almost melodically. “He’d notice something like that! Yeah, him and Kagamicchi have been so close to getting together, it’s driving me crazy~”

“W-we could try matchmaking them?” I offered, wincing at the awkwardness. But really, anything that would get me more time with Kise would be worth it in the end. And I liked Kuroko, he deserved to be happy.

“Ehh? Would you do that for me?” Kise’s grin was bright and happy as he poked me in the cheek. “You’re so nice, Aominecchi! I don’t think they’ll need a lot of it, there’s just one thing we have to take care of.” Even though I loved that Kise was happy, something was telling me I just opened up a wormhole I couldn’t easily close…

“A-ah…” I opened my mouth to say something more thoughtful when the door opened and in walked a short redheaded boy with a regal atmosphere.

“Shun is making bad puns with the customers again,” he said calmly, his sharp red eyes floating over the room. When they landed on Nijimura, completely engulfed in blankets, he raised an eyebrow before checking his watch. “Ryouta, the extra books are packed in a blue box by the register. Please meet Shougo and Atsushi by the pâtisserie in ten minutes.”

Kise didn’t even hesitate, jumping to his feet and winking at me. When he passed the redhead, he said, “Aominecchi had a bad day today, so be easy on him until I get back!”

“So Tetsuya informed me earlier. You all really need to stop texting at work.”

“Oh, like you don’t do it too,” Kise laughed despite the redhead’s cool demeanor, bouncing out of the room. The redhead turned his eyes to gaze evenly at me.

He looked like the son of a businessman, so this was probably Akashi. He wore a pressed baby blue button-down shirt and a fitted black blazer. His leather shoes had no scuffs on them; his silver watch glistened in the low light. Akashi was a whole new sense of regal, with his swan neck and porcelain skin, as well as his surprisingly long, but well-styled hair. He held his shoulders back and his feet in a confident stance.

“Ah. You’re the stray.”

Well. Looked like we wouldn’t get along.

“Oi, that’s a little rude to say the first time you meet someone.” I growled, meeting his gaze without fear. He seemed to find this amusing. 

“It wasn’t an insult,” he shrugged, peeling off his blazer and hanging it on the coathanger before kneeling by Nijimura and brushing the ravenette’s pale cheekbone with the backs of his fingers. It felt, watching it, like I was intruding on a very intimate moment. Then like the snap of his fingers he stopped and stood back up, finally noting Takao strewn haphazardly across the ground. “Oh? I was under the impression Kazunari wasn’t working today.”

“He came when…yeah.” I finished lamely, not really wanting to talk about it.

“Ah. When you had a panic attack.” Jesus Christ, Akashi really didn’t hold back, did he? “Have you eaten yet?”

“…no?” 

“Hn. Go do that. Hana Emi is on discount prices right now.”

Seriously, I couldn’t get on this guy’s wavelength. “Uh,” I checked my watch, “it’s fine. You’re early, too, and since there’s not that many people—“  
“It wasn’t a question, Daiki.” Akashi interrupted with a tone that left no room for argument. Feeling rattled, I glared at him as I walked out for the second time. When I closed the door, I took the opportunity to look at the name tags.

They were laminated and bright, each designated a different color. Kise’s was yellow, Takao’s was orange. Miyaji’s was a golden brown, and Izuki’s was a blue-grey. The only one that broke the pattern was Nijimura’s, which was pastel and contained each color of the rainbow. Despite the lamination, most of them were pretty faded. Nijimura’s name was nearly illegible, and Kuroko’s was in the same shape. Kise and Takao’s were still relatively new looking, and Midorima’s was a perfectly printed black, but Akashi’s neat handwriting was beginning to fade from black to grey.

“Oh, are you leaving?” I glanced over to see Izuki making his way down the hallway.

“Akashi’s making me get food,” I explained, and Izuki’s lips curved into a light smile. He wasn’t wearing his strange shoes, today. Instead, he wore flip flops—an odd pairing with his jeans.

“Wait a moment, I’ll wake up Takao and he’ll come with you.”

“Hm? Ok.” I shrugged, before hesitating. “Wait,” I said, and Izuki paused halfway through the door. “He…doesn’t look like he’s been sleeping well. Shouldn’t we let him rest?”

Izuki’s smile grew. “That’s very thoughtful of you,” he said, then moved his gaze inside the room. I wondered if he was looking at his brother. With an unreadable expression, he continued, “however, Takao doesn’t like sleeping very much lately.”

Without any explanation, he entered the employee’s room. I leaned back against the dark wall and stared up at the birthday candle chandelier. Despite the huge gobs of wax frozen in interesting forms on the fixture, the candles themselves showed no sign of dripping. They were skinny and multicolored, with neon polka dots.

“Yo,” Takao yawned as he stumbled through the door, Izuki’s jacket thrown over one shoulder. I snapped out of my thoughts and nodded in greeting. “Glad to see you’ve got an appetite! Let’s head out.”

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

 

 

Hana Emi was a little sushi store with a long stretch of bar and a few wooden stools. We sat down near the end and a tall man with spiky black hair appeared, an easy grin on his lips and a broad hand rubbing at the back of his head.

“Hey, there,” he greeted, leaning over the bar and ruffling Takao’s hair before holding out a hand to me. “You must be the new worker, Aomine?”  
“Nice to meet you,” I said politely, accepting the hand and wondering how he knew Takao. “Oh. Are you Ootsubo?”

“Ah, you were right Takao! He is clever!” Ootsubo seemed delighted with this. “I’d expect nothing less from a cop!”

Ok. Just how much was Takao telling people about me?

“…yeah.” I replied uncertainly, glancing over at Takao for a little guidance. The ravenette just grinned tiredly and rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I’ll take box A.”

“Same!” Takao chirped, thanking Ootsubo as he went off to make our lunches. He turned to me. “So, you’re feeling better?”

“Yeah, thanks.” I nodded, resting my cheek on my palm and raising an eyebrow. Slowly but surely I felt my mind slip into cop-mode, observing Takao with unrelenting eye contact. “Izuki said you don’t like getting much sleep lately. Why is that?”

“Ehh~” Takao grinned, but I got the vague sensation that he was pissed off. “Shun-chan told you that? Hm…”

“You haven’t answered the question.”

“Well,” Takao’s eyes slid over to the side of the bar. His lips twitched before curving into a frown. “I had a bad memory resurface somewhat recently, so I’m still getting nightmares.”

“Bad experience?”

“Don’t interrogate me.” I froze. It was as if Takao had changed into a completely different person. His eyes were hollow and empty, his expression grim as he stared back at me. Seeming to realize that he snapped, Takao sighed, leaned back and dragged a hand over his face. “Sorry, I—“ He froze when his phone vibrated in his pocket. When he pulled it out and glanced at the screen, a pout formed. “Aww, Shin-chan’s worried~ He never calls me.” 

_Midorima?_ I remembered meeting him in passing since we shared two shifts a week, but never personally. 

“Aren’t you gonna answer it?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. Takao was probably thanking god for Midorima’s timing; when the call ended, he wouldn’t be so lucky. I’d make sure of it.

“Wait…” Takao grinned, a fond expression on his face. I’d never seen it before, and it almost looked—well, dopey. Smitten. Whatever. Takao’s phone went silent as the call went to voicemail and got dropped; within seconds it started ringing again. Takao laughed happily and answered it, putting the phone far away from his ear.

_“IDIOT! WHY ARE YOU WORKING ON YOUR ONLY DAY OFF!”_ Midorima’s screeching voice buzzed through the little speaker on Takao’s phone, which sputtered tiredly before turning on and off. 

“Maa maa, Shin-chan, you’ll break my phone at this rate~” Despite getting chewed out, Takao looked overjoyed.

_“Idiot!”_ Wow, ‘Shin-chan’ didn’t have a lot of insults in his arsenal. Or maybe it was the twisted version of a pet name? _“I know you didn’t get any sleep again! If you would just tell me—“_

“Aw, Shin-chan, you know I could never hide anything from you!” Just from the sound of his voice I could tell Takao was strained. His smile drooped, hanging there awkwardly. “Besides, I got in a few minutes after this morning. Don’t—“

_“Of course I’d worry! Idiot!”_ The call ended abruptly, and Takao laughed awkwardly.

“Can we just—“

“Seriously, what’s going on with you?” I asked finally, deciding this would be the best route. “Takao, I’m serious, you don’t have to talk to me if you really don’t want to, but you have to talk to someone. I’d say Izuki knows something about it but if he did he’d do something about it. Which means you’re trying to bear something alone, and that’s just not healthy.”

Why wouldn’t he just let me _help him_? I couldn’t understand, not really. Not unless he at least gave me a hint at what happened that would mess him up like this. It wasn’t like I’d known him for years, even if it felt that way.

“I…” Takao stared at me, probably intaking my outburst, before taking in a shaky breath. “I wish I could talk to someone. I really, really do. It’s just…” He glanced over to make sure Ootsubo wasn’t nearby before letting his fingers absently shred his napkin. “Hayama knows. But he’s—he’s leaving soon.”

“Promise me you’ll talk to him.”

“I don’t know if—“

“Takao.”

His gaze shifted around before finally meeting mine. “Okay.”

“Good.” I leaned back and smiled, taking a deep breath to cool my mind.

“Thank you,” he whispered. I rolled my eyes.

“ _I_ should be the one thanking _you_ ,” I said. Then I noticed the basketball game playing on the tv in the back, and our conversation shifted permanently to a different subject.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've lost all motivation to finish this, so here is everything i have written for it that hasn't been posted, and a summary of the end~ if you just want to read the summary, scroll to the very bottom of the chapter

Chapter Seven: Sleep At Last

“Hey, Miyaji? Could I talk to you for a minute?”  
The golden-haired man stared at me, his molten eyes shimmering in the dark blue glow of the scifi room. “Get out, brat.” He said finally, putting his hands on his hips. “You don’t work today.”  
“I know,” I said, feeling a spike of irritation. Light from the hallway dimmed as the sun began to set, creating a quiet mood.“We can just talk here? It’s important.”  
Miyaji seemed to consider his options before rolling his eyes and settling down in the purple velvet chair. His hair was ruffled and soft-looking; when he sat his back curved to the back of the chair, and he crossed his arms over his chest. Instead of looking accusatory, Miyaji came off more as tired. I wondered, briefly, what his life was like before he got to the bookshop.  
The immense jade frog the chair once housed was now pushed underneath, since customers kept complaining about it. Not that we’d had many customers recently. To be honest, I didn’t see many people around except the workers in various shops. Most of the times I went out to eat, there weren’t many others out eating. Even when I went home—  
“Oi.” Miyaji snapped. “What is it? I have work to do.” His fingers tucked between his elbows and his chest; it was getting colder in the nights recently.  
“It’s just—I know you do some of the finances for the shop and everything, and I was wondering, how do we stay open? I never see that many customers.”  
His eyes sharpened to a glare. “Don’t try that bullshit with me. You didn’t show up here just to ask that. Why are you really here?”  
Damn, I’d have to remember to never ever lie to Miyaji, ever. “Fine. You and Nijimura are the oldest workers here, and I know you better. So tell me what the hell’s up with this place.”  
“Ah.” Miyajii leaned back in his chair. He drew out a long pause before continuing. “I see. Tell me what you mean.”  
“I mean there’s never any customers—seriously, that actually bothers me—and rooms that appear from nowhere, books that get spit off the shelves, and stairways with changing doors. I still can’t figure out why some of the name tags are so faded, or why the birthday candle chandelier never burns out. I don’t get it. And it didn’t bother me that much in the beginning, but with all the stress lately and I still don’t know what’s bothering Takao and—“  
“Jesus, brat. Calm down. Breathe. I’m not going anywhere.” Miyaji stood and clapped me once on the shoulder. “I get it, I get it. Have you been to the attic yet?”  
“That little room with like ten books in it? Yeah.”  
Miyaji’s expression was taken aback before it shifted into something akin to someone walking into battle. Grim and determined. “Alright. Come on, I’m gonna show you something. Ok?”  
“…okay.” His hand slid from my shoulder down my arm, squeezing my forearm before Miyaji drifted away. He rolled down the sleeves on his navy button-down and shivered as we began to walk up some stairs. They creaked under our footsteps, which echoed uncomfortably loud in the narrow staircase. I blinked as I realized we were going up to the attic.  
Miyaji walked through the open doorway and I sucked in a quick breath. The sky was painted in rich, dark blues and blacks. No stars twinkled, just a calm, everlasting stretch of color. The moon was bright and hung in the sky with dark tints of orange. The room should have been completely dark, but instead everything seemed to give off a soft glow. Miyaji’s skin, pale in the moonlight, looked like it glowed too.  
“Come here,” he said, and motioned me forward. When we stood side-by-side in front of the bookcase, he reached up. More books sat there than I remembered; all unnamed, with colorful leather bindings and golden details. None of them were labeled, though I could make out a cursive ‘Ha’ fading on one of them. Miyaji brushed his fingers against those letters, eyes shining, before moving on. He pulled out a dark blue book with golden wisps and stars bordering it.  
I accepted it when he handed it to me; the book was surprisingly heavy. The cover was cold like ice, and had almost a soft, frosty feel to it. Like brushing my hand against ice that couldn’t melt. “Is there lead in the pages or something?” I asked.  
“It’s heavy to you?” Miyaji asked with no curiosity, watching me as if waiting to see my reaction. “To me it’s feather-light.” He reached up again and pulled off a book with soft leather and golden spiral decorations, rubbing his hand over it. We exchanged books, and Miyaji put the blue one back on the shelf. This one was warmer, more alive. The leather was worn and loved and the corners were slightly bent, curling at the edges and portraying years of use.  
“When I was younger,” Miyaji began, “I fell in love with another guy. My parents were homophobic, so they started pushing me away and ostracizing me. Our family was pretty prominent in the neighborhood, so neighbors started asking questions, and it made my parents edgy. I still did well in school, got accepted into a great college, and was even on the first string for my school’s basketball team. But that was never enough for them. When I didn’t stop seeing him, they started…threatening me. One day I was leaving, and this green jeep caught up with me. This guy got out, some teenager from the dangerous part of town. He confronted me, and he and a few other guys dragged me into an alley and beat me: thugs, hired by my desperate parents. One of them…I couldn’t move. It felt like all of the life got sucked out of my body. I felt dirty. I’ve never experienced such an excruciating shame and degradation. I was in so much pain at one point, I blacked out.  
“When I woke up, I was in my boyfriend’s house. He’d found me, unconscious, and brought me home. His grandparents were much more tolerant, and they took me in like their own. We played basketball together at our university, and everything felt like it was going right. Until his grandparents were killed in a hit-and-run. The car that hit them was a green jeep.”  
Miyaji’s eyes glittered, and he watched the sky continue to darken. Moonlight illuminated the dust floating in the air. “We tried to stay in the house, but my parents wouldn’t stop threatening us. Soon enough, he and I made a plan to run away. We snuck out in the middle of the night and caught a train to the nearest big city, and worked our asses off to make ends meet. We both worked three jobs at once, most of them under the table so we could take illegal shifts. We got to stay above a bakery, so we never paid much for heating in the winters, and saved whatever we had left at the end of each year. We wanted to save up enough to buy a house, and he wanted to go back to school. And then I got sick.  
“I passed out one day at work. It felt like my head exploded. My boyfriend spent most of our savings getting doctors to look at me, and they all said the same thing. I had an epidural hematoma; an injury from when I was beaten.”  
I stared. “And you survived? That’s—“  
“No,” Miyaji smiled bitterly. “I didn’t.”  
My eyes flew open. The attic was bright in the morning sunshine; Miyaji was nowhere to be seen. My hands clamped the brown book so tightly my knuckles were white and my thumbs cramped. A musty taste lay thick on my tongue and the back of my throat. What time is it? When did I get here?! Panic laced my chest, and I closed my eyes and thought of Kise, Kise’s smile, how nice everyone was…slowly, my breathing deepened. I stood up and put the book back on the shelf, which was now empty again. Was that real? Did I hallucinate or something? No, I must have been sleeping.  
Slowly, disoriented, I made my way down the stairs. A headache began in my temple and I rubbed it uncomfortably, tweaking my shoulder injury just the wrong way. When I reached the bottom of the steps, Akashi was wiping down the front desk with a disinfectant wipe. He looked unsurprised to see me.  
“My, my,” he said evenly as he swept past me to put away the wipe. “Can’t anyone get their shift right? It’s Friday, Daiki. You don’t work until later.”  
“A-ah. My bad.” I hoped he didn’t notice me shaking, but his red eyes were too sharp for their own good. He turned and crossed his arms, making me feel small despite being the taller one.   
“Hmph. Kazunari made you out to be smarter than you are.” He said. “Well? How are you feeling?”  
“I, uh. Better.”  
“Fool,” Akashi’s eyes narrowed and I began to feel ticked off.  
“It’s not my fault no one in this store will be fucking straightforward with me!” I snapped, glaring. Akashi’s eyes lit up in cruel amusement.  
“Oh? You want to be coddled? Alright.” Oh, god. “Where do you go after your shift ends?” With that, he walked out. I watched him leave, wondering why the hell that would matter.  
“Ehh? Aominecchi? What are you doing here?” I turned at the sound of a happy voice. Kise beamed and came up to me, depositing his dripping blue raincoat on the register desk.  
Too close! I felt my face burn red and took a step backward, eyes shifting to the side. “I-I was wondering what time you wanted to meet for lunch.”  
“Oh? Since we’re both closing tomorrow, let’s just meet before our shift!” Kise’s smile was dazzling. His hair shone like gold in the light, and his skin was bright and fresh. When I nodded his eyes glittered happily, and it sent warmth into the tips of my fingers.  
“Aomine-kun, if you’re here early you should get everyone coffee.” Kuroko appeared from the entrance, dark circles ringing his eyes. He stared at us tiredly before yawning and making his way to the register.  
“Great idea!” Takao chirped as he hopped in, bundled up in a green hoodie. He startled when I ruffled his hair before grinning up at me cheekily and saying, “oh! Ki-chan, you should go with him! He looks like a zombie on his feet.”  
There was a special place in heaven for people like Takao, I decided. Even if he still had dark circles under his eyes and ghostly pale skin, his expressions were as bright and clear as always.  
“…sure.” Kise agreed, and I got a momentary view of bright red cheeks before he was turning to pull back on his raincoat. Takao flashed me a thumbs up before skittering off to begin setting up. Akashi watched Kise and I for a brief moment before he smiled gently; it was gone in a heartbeat and he turned away to address the register.  
“So,” I said as we pushed out into the rain. Kise glanced over at me through his honey eyes. “Er, how are you?”  
“Good~” He answered happily. leaning into me. “But how are you? And why were you at the bookstore so early, Aominecchi?” He scrunched up his nose. “I can barely wake up early enough to get to this shift.”  
“I was talking to Miyaji last night and I guess I fell asleep in the attic. I was really tired.” I shrugged, before noticing that Kise had stopped walking. He had a funny look on his face.  
“The attic?” He asked, his lashes fluttering. The rain dripped from the top of his raincoat, little drops landing on his cheek and rolling down.  
“Yeah? Why, was I not supposed to go there or something?” I thought back to Oikawa, who had obviously been uncomfortable with entering the little room.  
“No, it’s just…” He frowned thoughtfully before shaking his head and resuming our walk. “Nevermind! I thought of something, but I was mistaken.” His bright grin resumed, and he bumped our shoulders together. “You know, Aominecchi’s a really great guy.”  
“…huh?” Did I miss something?  
Kise’s expression didn’t change as we pushed into Jolly Roger’s, the cozy atmosphere wrapping around us and the smell of nutmeg thick in the air. “Not to get depressing or anything, but as a model I end up meeting a lot of flat people. People who are just mirrors, and tell you things that you want to hear?” He sighed, nudging for me to go ahead of him in line. “But Aominecchi’s just—-just honest. It’s really refreshing.”  
“Thank you,” I said. Right as I prepared myself to repay him with a compliment of my own, Riko cut in.  
“Alright, you two lovebirds. Lemme guess you’re getting coffee for everyone?” Her brown eyes sparkled. The skin under my eyes flushed a bright red; when I glanced over, Kise’s held a similar color. “Okay, I’ll get it out right away! You can wait over there.” She gestured to the fireplace, and we shuffled over to it.  
“So, I was wondering, what—“ Kise cut himself off with a squeal and shifted his weight to the balls of his feet, leaning into me. “Look!” He stagewhispered, pointing to a dead-on-his-feet guy in line. “Lookit!”  
“Eh?” I grumbled, giving him a onceover. He had an average-looking face, save eyebrows that seemed to split halfway through. His spiky hair flashed dark red in the light, and he sunk farther into his puffer coat. Tired red eyes squinted at the menu display, and he nudged the blonde woman at his side. Under one arm he had a potted plant tucked carefully, its dark green leaves big and curled at the edges. If anything, he was tall. “Who?”  
“That’s Kagamicchi!” Kise exclaimed happily.   
Oh? This is who Kuroko likes? I raised an eyebrow, then frowned when Kagami caught his eye on Kise and grinned. He said something to his companion before walking over. Kise made a happy noise and stepped forward eagerly, face bright and sunny.  
“Kise! It’s been a while!” Kagami said, leaning in to give the blonde a one-armed hug. Kise pressed his face into the puffer jacket and sighed happily before leaning back out, and I felt a surge of jealousy rise up from the pit of my stomach, burning and hot. I sent Kagami a mild glare and hooked my arm around Kise’s shoulders. Had I been reading Kise wrong? Was this how he acted with everyone, or did he actually like me?  
“Kagamicchi! What are you doing here this early?” Kise asked, leaning into my arm far enough that his chin was almost touching my shoulder. It made my stitches ache a little bit, but I knew he wasn’t doing it on purpose and I didn’t want to surrender our close position just yet.  
“I wanted to pick up some vanilla cookies for Kuroko,” Kagami shrugged. “Also, the nursery is overcrowded again and I heard you guys had room, so.” He lifted his arm to gesture to the plant before extending his free hand. “You must be Aomine. Nice to meet you, man. I’m Kagami.”  
“Nice to meet you,” I nodded, accepting the firm handshake. Kagami’s palm was made of thick, calloused skin. Curious. I wondered what his profession was, because looking down his hands had a fair amount of light scarring. Surely gardening wouldn’t cause all of that?  
“Ah, Kagamicchi was a firefighter for a few years! Isn’t that cool! You guys have something in common!” Kise chirped. Kagami raised an eyebrow and held eye contact with me.  
“Eh?”  
“I’m a cop,” I reiterated. “I’m out for an injury right now.” For some reason, this didn’t sit well with him. He sighed, a minute grimace spreading over his face, and ran his hand through his spiky hair.  
“Ah, that’s too bad,” he said, and sounded like he really meant it. In the distance Riko shouted orders, and he cocked his head to the side. “Oi, Kise, I think your order’s ready.” Kise perked up, his weight shifting before he caught himself and glanced between the two of us. “Maa, maa, I’ll play nice, okay?”  
“…Okay,” Kise said, squinting at Kagami before moving off to the counter in the back. When he was out of hearing range, Kagami turned to me with a smug grin.  
“Wow, you’re pretty in love with him, huh?” He smirked.  
“Yeah, so?” I asked, taking it as a challenge. To my surprise Kagami’s smirk softened, and he backed off immediately.  
“Don’t take it like an insult, Ahomine. It’s nice. You two would—“ He broke off for a moment, eyes unfocusing for a beat. “You two would be a great match.”   
I raised an eyebrow and took a moment to process the redhead. He was different from everyone at the bookshop, in a way I couldn’t place. Like…”you’re not meant to be here.”  
“Excuse me?”  
I glanced up. “Huh?” Did I say that out loud? “Sorry, I was just thinking. My bad.”  
“Hey, did you ever play basketball?” He asked, ignoring what I said before. When I raised an eyebrow he shrugged. “You’re tall and athletic, so I just figured…”  
“I could’ve played volleyball,” I shot back, thinking of Oikawa and the way the ball would float off his fingertips. “Nah, I did as a kid but I stopped before high school. Why?”  
“Let’s shoot some hoops later,” Kagami suggested. “It looks like you could use some fresh air after being cooped up in that store all the time.”  
I hesitated, my eyes wandering over to Kise. His eyes sparkled as he began putting everyone’s cups into big carriers, and he made small talk with one of the baristas as he did.   
“Okay,” I said finally. “I don’t have a morning shift Saturday, wanna do it then?”  
“Sure,” he agreed, and shuffled around his pockets before pulling out a pen and writing his number on a napkin. I shoved it in my pocket when he was done. “Okay, I’m gonna go help Alex with ordering. Good luck with Kise.” He leaned in and put a hand to cover his words as he whispered, “He likes you too, just so you know.”  
“S-shut up!” I barked, bright red now. Kagami smirked and darted off just as Kise began to walk back over. “You suck, Bakagami!”  
“Did something happen?” Kise asked, looking confused. “You two looked like you were going to get along.”  
“Nah, we’re good.” I glared over at the redhead, who was now ordering in line. Riko caught it though, and sent a death glare my way. “Come on,” I threw an arm around his shoulders again and pulled us out the door, “let’s go.”  
I didn’t notice the weary look Kagami sent at my back as we retreated.

 

Chapter Eight: Ocean Breathes Salty

“It’s quiet tonight,” Takao muttered, his eyes dancing around the lights that flickered in the dark through the window panes. Rain splattered against them, creating a calm drumming sound that echoed through the store. He blinked once slowly, his finger tracing the lip of his tea mug. Steam rolled up into the air, swirling briefly before vanishing.  
“Mm,” I murmured. Behind us, Miyaji grumbled as he put away some leftover books. We’d shut off most of the main lights, so only the warm glow of the white string lights illuminated the room, hanging across the high ceiling like stars.   
“It’s too quiet,” Takao whispered, closing his eyes and sighing. I rolled my eyes and ruffled his hair. “I don’t like it.”  
His bad mood was rubbing off on me. Lunch with Kise had been good, but…that was it. Nothing happened. I didn’t get any signs that he liked me, despite what Kagami said. He acted just like he did around everyone else, if not a bit concerned about Nijimura getting enough sleep and food. And questions. He had questions about my injury that I didn’t have the answers to—that I didn’t want the answers to. Every one made me feel like I was stuck, like the pain wasn’t getting better. But then he’d go and remind me of how things take time, and how he was behind me, and Oikawa obviously was, and Takao and the others too. I couldn’t figure him out, even though I was trying so hard.  
We paused when silence filled the air, followed by the loud clatter of a book falling to the ground. I opened my mouth to say something but it died in my throat at the look on Miyaji’s face. His face was pale and his eyes were wide; his hands shook, still in the same position they were in when they dropped the book. He stared out the window with the expression of someone who had their heart ripped out.  
“No,” Takao hissed near-silently when I moved to see what was wrong. His eyes flashed dangerously, reminding me of a wolf protecting an injured member of the pack. It was a look I’d seen on many a police officer, and it was the look on my face when that bastard took one step towards Oikawa.  
Miyaji staggered away from the shelf, his knees trembling, before he drew in a quivering breath and sprinted out of the shop. The door bell jingled on his way out; his breath rose in puffs barely visible through the watery panes as he faded into the darkness.  
I felt numb as I turned back to Takao. I wanted to yell at him, and ask him what the hell was going on. But when I caught the look on his face—utter misery—as he stared, unblinking, at Miyaji’s back, it left me. I still didn’t know what Takao was going though, and maybe I was wrong, but I had I feeling that this had something to do with it. So I took a deep breath, reminded myself to yell at him about it later, and got up.   
I picked up the book Miyaji had been putting away and slid it into place on the shelf. I checked the register lock and put away all the receipt paper. And then I turned, nudged Takao into a standing position, and pushed him to the back room with his tea in tow. We walked down the narrow, pitch black corridor and under the swinging birthday candle chandelier. The round entrance to the employee’s room was already open, and I wondered who left it that way.  
Without speaking Takao sat down on the old sofa. His hands shook slightly, and when I noticed I sighed, refilled his tea and brought it back. I dragged a crate of The Magic Treehouse books over and sat on it so we could speak face to face.  
“Okay. Takao, I know we’re friends, and I know you don’t think I can handle whatever you’re carrying around, but I can. Okay? I’m a cop. You don’t need to worry about me; I can take care of myself. Just let me know what’s wrong so I can help.” After all, it seemed to have something to do with Miyaji’s running out.  
Takao’s lip trembled. He took a sip of the tea and let out a shuddering sigh. “I—I was an ambulance driver, you know?” His eyes darted around before settling on his mug. “And, it’s like, that job sucks you in. You never have free time. So I started making friends with the doctors, the interns, just…all the people stuck working with me. And it was nice. My l-life wasn’t stable back then, and just. Being around those people helped.  
“I had this old basketball injury that kept hurting my eyes, so I’d go in every once in a while. A friend from a rival school who hurt his ankle went with me a lot, b-but…one day, he—“ Takao gulped. “It was late, so I didn’t call him, I just went by myself. And this guy, he looked kind of crazy, but everyone in a hospital is kind of crazy so I just didn’t question it, you know? And he—this doctor I really like, he turned the corner and I waved to him and the guy just turned and—and stabbed him. And I—“  
He cut himself off, wheezing a little. I knew better than to touch him at this point, and just let him work it out himself. He closed his eyes and his pace began to even out. He pulled up his thin cotton t-shirt and revealed a thick, ugly scar. It was a clean puncture wound, maybe two, three inches long, and the skin around it was raised pink, grey, and white. The kind of injury a kitchen knife would make.  
“I stopped him. He was a convict who was supposed to be under surveillance but they—obviously he got loose. I…I stopped him.” Takao coughed, flushing and pulling his shirt down. He glanced away. “But—but the doctor, he…”  
I didn’t know what to say. A smaller part of my brain wondered what Miyaji had to do with this; at some point I’d have to buckle down and get some straight answer out of him. Maybe out of Akashi, too, and Nijimura. Those two seemed to know a lot.  
“I blocked a lot of that out for a long time, but…recently, I began having these nightmares. Flashbacks, whatever. And I remembered it, I remembered everything. And it’s just—it’s just hard to deal with, okay?”  
I frowned, trying to understand. “Why didn’t you talk to me? Or anyone?”  
“Look, I was going to, it’s just—“  
“My panic attack.” Guilt bubbled up in the pit of my stomach. “You didn’t want to say anything right after I had a panic attack.”  
“You say it like it was that long ago,” Takao laughed bitterly. “But it’s more complicated than that. I can’t…I just can’t talk about it to a lot of people, okay? You’ll get it, soon, since you’re smart. But I just can’t.” He leaned back in his chair, still pale. “I took your advice, though. I talked with Hayama.”  
“So you could tell him because he doesn’t work here?” I asked, wondering if it was a rumor mill problem. Takao shook his head.  
“I could tell him because he already knew.” He glanced at the doorway. “He visited the hospital a lot, while I worked there. His boyfriend was sick, and we met in the ambulance on the ride over. And besides that, he’s leaving. Probably gone by now.” He looked bitter.  
That made me pause. “Oh.”  
“That’s why Miyaji-senpai ran out. Hayama…he didn’t give much warning of his departure.”  
So…Takao’s been having nightmares? That’s why he hasn’t been sleeping lately? That made sense, but alongside Izuki’s comment and Midorima not knowing, something didn’t add up. Still, I didn’t want to push him. After all, he’d gone so far as to share this much with me. As much as I wanted to ask, he deserved his privacy. And anyways, why was Hayama leaving, and why wouldn’t he tell his own boyfriend about it but Takao knew?  
“Thanks for telling me,” I said, and he nodded with a grimace and pulled his knees up to his chest.   
“I know you’re trying to figure out what’s wrong with this store,” he mumbled. I froze. “I know how much it’s bugging you, but I’m serious. Take it from someone who does know…just leave it be.” He made a quiet noise in the back of his throat. “Fall in love with Kise and be happy, and just leave this alone. At least for a little while.”  
I frowned. “I can’t promise that.” I said, fighting the urge to cross my arms. So there was something wrong with the store. Finally someone had admitted it. But why was Takao so determined to keep me out of it? “You’d tell me, right? If it’s dangerous? If you guys are getting blackmailed or something?”  
“I…yeah,” he nodded. “Yeah. We’re ok, at least as much as we can be. It just…” He leaned forward until his forehead rested on my shoulder, and I shifted to keep his balance intact. “It just sucks. Knowing. Okay? It sucks.”  
“Okay,” I nodded. And I put aside my questions and let him breathe. 

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“So you’re fresh meat, huh?” Kagami grinned as he dunked the basketball in the hoop. It was cold that morning, but at least the rain had stopped. The court glistened in the morning light. “Must be crazy, working in that store.”  
“Yeah, well,” I grunted, rolling on the balls of my feet to catch a pass.  
“Especially when you don’t know what’s wrong with it.”  
Wait, so even Bakagami knew?! What the hell?!  
“Save it,” He smirked, reaching out with a lightning shift and stealing the ball again. The net swooshed as the ball fell through it. “I’m different from Takao and Kise, I’ve known since I got here.”  
Again, I got the strange feeling that Kagami shouldn’t be here. “Yeah? So tell me.”  
“It’s not that simple.”   
“People keep saying—“  
“No, seriously.” Kagami’s eyes grew serious. “If I could tell you, man, I would. Really. But I can’t. I can try and push you in the right direction if that’s what you want; I never really believed in keeping it a secret like they do. But I can’t directly tell you anything.”  
Huh. “Okay, fine. What’s in the goddamn attic?”  
“Sorry, that one’s a no-go.”  
“You just said—“  
“Sorry! Can’t help it. Try again.” He passed the ball back to me.   
“Fine.” I sighed, passing it back. “Is Kise wrapped up in all of this?”  
He looked surprised, but it softened into something fond. “Yeah. All of them are, unfortunately. Even you.”  
“…okay.” I took a deep breath. “I know Miyaji and Takao are related somehow. They seem to be tied to Hayama. Miyaji’s boyfriend…he’s dating Hayama, right?”  
“Yeah,” Kagami’s eyes grew darker. “C’mon, you’re like a quarter of the way there.”  
My blood began to boil with intensity. “Okay, okay.” I caught the chest pass and took a beat to think before throwing it back. “I had a dream about him a while back. But maybe it wasn’t a dream, maybe I fell asleep halfway through, so the ending got all messed up.” Kagami’s eyes glinted and I knew I got it right. “Okay, so Miyaji’s boyfriend, the one who he ran away with, it’s Hayama. And when he got sick, they rode in Takao’s ambulance. That’s how they all know each other.”  
“Yeah,” Kagami nodded, bouncing the ball back over.   
“Well what the fuck does that have to do with the bookstore?!”  
A pause. “Come on, Ahomine. Think. How do their stories end?”  
“Takao got stabbed and Miyaji got some kind of head trauma. So? The connection is that they all survived terrible accidents? The bookstore secret is that everyone has some freak miracle story?” I sighed. “That’s it, huh? Bullshit.”  
“Yeah, you’re not getting it.” Kagami’s sigh echoed my own. “Okay…you need to stop thinking realistically, because this isn’t a realistic situation.”  
“Isn’t realistic? You mean this is like some kind of manga? Some made up story shit?”  
_“You survived?”  
“I didn’t.”  
“…” Everyone has some freak story. Some freak accident._ Even me.  
“Oh my god.” _Where do you go when your shift ends?_ I staggered back, and Kagami’s mouth smeared into a grimace.  
“Aomine, I—“  
“Shut up! Just—shut up for a second.” I wiped a hand over my face. “Miyaji…collapsed from head trauma. Takao got stabbed, I got shot. Kagami, you don’t…” I kneeled, head swimming, before I was able to look up at him. “I’m dead, aren’t I?”

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

**One night previous**

“I’m sorry,” Miyaji sobbed, his fingers gripping Hayama’s shirt tightly, twisting the fabric in desperation. “I’m so, so sorry.”  
“I know,” Hayama murmured, hooking his arms under Miyaji’s armpits and pulling him up, embracing him tightly. His skin was almost translucent, and Miyaji made a whimpering noise and drew closer. “I love you so much.”  
“I love you too,” Miyaji whispered, repeating it over and over until even he couldn’t understand it. “I love you so much.”  
They sat there, in the moonlight. The forest was dark and warm around them, a quiet golden glow emerging softly from the ground. They sunk to their knees, and Hayama leaned back into a tree and let Miyaji straddle him, hugging him even tighter until neither could breath comfortably.   
His fingers found their own places, one fisting the back of Miyaji’s shirt, the other running through his hair. His heart ached like someone dropped a thick, black stone in it. “I don’t want to leave without you.” He cried. Miyaji’s back shivered as he began to hold in his own sobs.  
“Me either,” His breath shook. “Thank you.”  
“Miyaji?” Tears leaked out of Hayama’s eyes.  
“Thank you. For everything. Thank you for staying with me when we were kids, thank you for taking me in when my parents abandoned me. Thank you for being there when I got sick. Thank you for trying to save me.” He pressed his lips against Hayama’s, tasted salty tears. “Thank you for loving me.” He closed his eyes and curled into Hayama’s chest, trying not to sob when the warmth of another human became the cold brittleness of bark.   
_“This isn’t the end, we’ll find each other again.”_  
There was no flash of light, no sound. There was only empty space, where once there was not.

 

 

Chapter Nine: Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door

“You ok?” Kise asked me over fried rice. We were sitting in Hana Emi, and it was two hours before his shift would start. “You haven’t spoken much.”  
What was I supposed to say? How could this be happening? I tried to remember something, anything about what happened directly after getting shot. And it was then that I realized I couldn’t remember anything about my life, either. I could remember Oikawa, and Momoi and Imayoshi in brief glances…but everything else drew a blank.  
_“You realize you can’t stay here, right?”  
“What?”  
“You can’t…you can’t stay here. You don’t have to go back to where you were before, but…” _  
Oikawa had known. He’d known everything, and had tried so hard to tell me…no wonder he felt so desperate and upset when he showed up. Briefly, I wondered how he even showed up at all. _Oh, Tooru, you idiot. What did you do?_  
“Mm…” I mumbled uncomprehensively, chopsticks shifting the rice around on my plate. Kise placed his hand on top of mine to stop them.  
“Hey, is this about your panic attack? You can talk to me, you know.” He leaned back in a moment of uncertainty. His fingers danced around the table before settling on his napkin, slowly shredding it into confetti. “I…sorry if that’s too forward. But I’m worried about you. I’m worried about Takaocchi. I’m worried about Miyajicchi and Nijimuracchi. I’m tired of being out of the loop. I want to be trusted enough to know what’s going on. So, please…what’s going on?”  
I thought back to Takao’s advice. _Fall in love with Kise and be happy._ I should have listened. And Miyaji…I couldn’t imagine losing the love of my life. Just thinking about it made me desperately want to help him somehow. I understood in that moment exactly what Kise must have been feeling for a long, long time.  
“It’s not about the panic attack,” I said finally. “It’s kind of hard to…I’m not very good at…” I took a deep breath. “I like you. I’ve liked you since you let me in my first night.”  
“I like you t—“ he cut off, eyes widening as he realized what I meant. “Oh. I…oh.”  
Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for. I tried not to let it get to me but my hands were clenched into fists underneath the table. “Yeah.” I said flatly. “And maybe it was the panic attack, and there’s stuff going on with Takao and Miyaji that definitely helped, but I feel like things are finally in perspective. We don’t have control over anything. That’s how this world works. Instead we have each other, and that’s how we keep going. Without other people, this world would probably cease to exist.”  
“I don’t understand,” Kise said softly. Despite his quiet tone, his eyes never broke contact with mine.   
“You’re how I keep going. You let me in that first night, even though you really didn’t have to. You’ve been so kind to me. And I just see the way that you are and how much you give and I really admire that. I…like who I am better, when I am with you.”  
Now I actually did want to run. _Wow. Way to take it slow._ Really, though? Where did all of that come from? Just because I knew about this world, about the truth, didn’t mean my feelings for Kise should’ve tripled. But somehow, I knew what I told him was true. That’s honestly how I felt. His expression was hard to read.  
He spoke when he finally ran out of napkin to shred, brushing the crumpled remains to the side into a pile by the soy sauce. “I don’t know why, but I feel like I’ve heard that before.”  
“I hope you haven’t,” I said, before coughing awkwardly. “Sorry. It sounded a lot less stalkerish in my head.”

 

xxxxxxx

 

aaaaaand that's all I have written for it! exciting exciting. basically, everyone is dead. the bookshop is between the afterlife and our world, for the people who haven't accepted that they are dead yet. all of the manga etc is still canon except that everyone got together eventually, and that they all died in certain ways. when hayama "left", he really just passed on to the next life. only once someone realizes that they lived a great life, and truly believes it, can they move on to the next one. the ending that i had in mind is that eventually people start moving on until almost no one is left, except maybe takao and aomine and kise and miyaji. and miyaji would probably slap takao and aomine on the back of the head and tell them they better come find him in the next life, and they turn to protest but he's no longer there; he moved on. and then kise hugs takao and kisses aomine and promises that they will love and find each other in every life they live, no matter what. maybe the next life kise will finally beat him in basketball. and then it's just takao and aomine, and they talk about what it might be like in the next life, if they will all really find their way back together again or if this is goodbye for good. and then they tell each other that if this is for the last time, they are glad they knew each other in this life. and then it ends~


End file.
